Comfort of home
by parmakai66
Summary: ST:Ent SGA crossover. “Where are we anyway?” he asked. “An Earth outpost,” she replied flatly. “Yeah, thanks for clearing that up. The humans around here were sending me confusing signals," he smarted back to her.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of ST:Enterprise or Stargate Atlantis. No infrigment intended. I just invited the characters to play in my backyard.

A/N I, like many others, believe the true finale of ST: ENT was Terra Prime. However, I got an inkling to write this story after my roommate got me hooked on Stargate Atlantis. So, this story acknowledges the atrocity of These Are the Voyages and the relaunch series by pocket books: The Good that Men Do.

As for SGA: the timeline is S4 just after Atlantis landed on their new planet and Dr. Weir was lost to the replicators.

Thanks to Ed for being my beta ... although honestly I've seen some things you've written and often wondered how you graduated from college. (so that's my disclaimer for any mistakes)

The promise and comfort of home

_I knew he wasn't dead, _Travis Mayweather thought to himself as he piloted the scout ship _Hero_ NX-42 through space. Mayweather, like everyone else on Enterprise, saw the Commander lying dead in the torpedo casing and he was even one of the 'pallbearers' that lifted Tucker into the launch tube before jettisoning the pod into space. But he honestly never believed the Engineer was really dead, for all he knew it was another _Sim_ in that pod. It had to be, it was the only thing that made sense. Malcolm was just too calm about the whole thing and the Captain, considering that Tucker was one of his closest friends, was too nice.

Despite what he felt or believed Travis kept it to himself. He knew there was good reason for the Commander to fake his own death and maybe some day he'd discover why. In the meantime, he needed to go on with his life. Six years later, after he was promoted three times, served on two other starships, got married, had a child and settled into his new role as a flight instructor at Starfleet Academy, Travis finally got his answer.

Three weeks ago when Commander Reed knocked on his door and put the offer on the table to tag along to retrieve an intelligence operative, Travis didn't blink or hesitate with his response. He knew by the look in Malcolm's eye that it wasn't just any operative they were going after … it was Trip and finally after six years, it was time to bring him home.

Breaking the news to Gannet confirmed his suspicions all the more. Reed informed him they would be leaving within twenty four hours which meant Travis would miss his three year old daughter's first dance recital. He went home expecting a full out fight, but surprisingly Gannet wasn't that upset. Obviously her covert ties with Starfleet Intelligence had something to do with that, but like always it was don't ask, don't tell.

He left the next day after kissing his girls goodbye. Mayweather and five MACO specialists flew to Alpha Centauri by a civilian freighter. Travis knew a couple members of the team: Major Kristin Mackenzie had served on Enterprise for two years and Sergeant Jon Schmidt was on Endeavor. The others, Sergeant Geoff Kavan, Lieutenant Lucy Alvarez and Lieutenant Chip Bowyer, were friendly enough but all carried that _edge _about them that was defined the mentality of a MACO. Once they were on the planet they met up with the Reed and his ship's crew: two engineering specialists, Lieutenant Dan Alonso and Ensign Lydia Yi, and tactical specialist Ensign Roger Conroy.

The one team member Travis wasn't expecting was Commander T'Pol. Up until a few weeks ago Travis hadn't seen or heard from her in years. Scuttlebutt was that she had left Starfleet and returned to Vulcan, which he later found out was only half true. T'Pol _had_ returned to Vulcan, but remained in Starfleet as a liaison to the Admiral in the Earth Embassy. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised to learn she was on this mission. T'Pol and Trip _did_ have a child together after all, even if she was a binary clone. Travis wondered if T'Pol had doubted Trip's death like he did or if she knew the truth because of that Vulcan sense of hers.

Mayweather stood from the helm station and walked over to a bank of sensor monitors on the port wall. NX-42 designated as Hero was no ordinary Starfleet vessel. He chuckled to himself thinking back to the moment that he first saw it and busted Malcolm on their true mission. After receiving the briefing, Reed walked Mayweather to the ship to get himself familiar with the controls while the MACO's loaded supplies and weapons onboard.

"_It looks like Degra's ship," Mayweather said as he and Reed walked into the hanger bay. _

"_It is, well, at least a version of it. I thought about naming it Degra, but decided that Hero was more appropriate," Reed said dryly. "The Xindi provided two to Starfleet Security during the war. They were rather helpful in achieving our goals in the peace treaty," he said arching his brow to imply something else. _

"_It's a lot smaller than what I remember," Travis said as the two men walked toward the ship. "What's this thing got under the hood?"_

"_Here's when the saying 'good things come in small packages' is appropriate," Reed said with a smirk. "She's loaded to the gills. Two decks, crew quarters for twenty, transporter, tractor beam, replicator, shields, weapons and the grand prize…a warp seven engine." _

_Mayweather's jaw nearly hit the floor. "That little thing carries a warp seven engine?" he shook his head in amazement. "Trip's gonna shit his pants!" _

_Reed blew a puff of air out between his lips and laughed. "I suspect he won't want to leave the engine room once he comes on board." He closed his eyes and chided himself. The mission briefing covered everything but the name of the operative they were rescuing and Mayweather had just busted him on it. Reed turned back to look at the Lieutenant Commander and crossed his arms at his chest. "How long have you known?" _

"_Since the day he allegedly died," Travis replied with quiet chuckle. He leaned closer to his friend. "You didn't cry enough at his funeral." _

"_You've known all this time and you've never brought it up?" Reed remarked. _

"_I obviously wasn't on the need to know list," Travis replied bluntly. "Don't worry there are no hard feelings."_

Mayweather sighed and looked around the bridge to see if anyone had entered the room, specifically Commander Reed. He heard a beep on his sensor array and looked down to check the readings. After a second he keyed up the comm system on his panel. "Mayweather to Reed," he called.

"Reed here," a groggy british voice answered on the comm.

"Did I wake you sir?" Mayweather joked hearing Malcolm's voice.

"No, not at all," Reed mumbled into the comm. "Did you want something important?"

"We're two parsecs from our target sir," Mayweather reported still smirking,

"Aye Commander, I'm on my way. Reed out."

* * *

Major Kirstin Mackenzie walked in to the armory and typed her login into the computer terminal. Filled with nervous energy in anticipation of their mission her stomach was a bag of knots. She bounced on the tips of her toes as her fingers quickly tapped the keyboard requesting the ordnance manifest and the blueprints for the asteroid prison complex. As the data compiled on the screen, Mackenzie pulled her reddish brown hair out of its pony tail and ran her fingers through it as it fell past her collar to the mid point between her shoulder blades.

Mackenzie hardly fit the mold of a "normal" MACO officer. She had a natural beauty about her that defied make up or other high maintenance pampering. She was petite but strong, and kept her hair long and her nails perfectly manicured, despite military regulations. Her looks gave her an innocent appearance and hid the genius within.

Intellectually she had no business being apart of a MACO strike team. Kirsten graduated from high school at twelve and before she was old enough to drink legally she attained PhD's in Mathematics and Physics. Most people were floored to find out in her life before the military she taught at an elementary school, reaching out to the youth she had missed growing up. What she lacked in height and stature, she made up for physically and mentally. Kirstin was no one to mess with as she was an expert in several styles of martial arts and defensive tactics. Strategically she could outwit and out-maneuver even the best military minds.

Early in her military career, Kirstin's abilities caught the attention of a certain commanding officer. Before she knew it, she was named to Major Hayes' elite squad and was assigned to serve aboard Enterprise. After Hayes' death, she emerged as a natural leader with the team. She served two years on Enterprise and then went to Officer Candidate School with Captain Archer's personal recommendation. During the Romulan War, Mackenzie served on two starships and was given accommodations for bravery and valor. She moved up the ranks quickly and had just received her oak leaf the day before Commander Reed asked her to join this mission.

Mackenzie was one of the few that knew the truth about Commander Tucker. To the public and many at Starfleet Intelligence Trip was Commander Logan Doyle. To Kirstin and Reed, he was something much more. Mackenzie's team assisted Reed two years ago when he sprung Tucker from an Orion prison cell. While she had always doubted the validity of the Commander's death, Kirstin was surprised to discover Tucker was posing as a Romulan.

Kirstin smiled to herself as she thought about Tucker with the pointy ears and the bubbly forehead. She knew him too well from the Enterprise days to believe he could pull it off effectively. The thought of it always gave her a laugh. When Malcolm asked her to join this mission, she could hardly refuse. After living through hell with him during the Xindi mission, Malcolm and Trip were like brothers to her and she damn sure wasn't going to leave either of them behind.

The computer beeped to tell her the information she needed was ready. She transferred the manifest onto a PADD and turned to begin the inventory of the armory lockers. She wasn't expecting anyone to be standing next to her when she moved and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Geezus Malcolm!" she yelped dropping the PADD as she jumped at the sight of him.

"Jumpy?" the British commander chuckled. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you heard me come in."

Kirstin shook her head. "I was thinking bout Trip," she muttered squatting down to pick up the PADD. She stood up and set it down on the console.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Reed remarked.

"About what?"

"To thank you for keeping it … him under wraps all this time," Malcolm said nervously fiddling with the door to the ordnance locker.

"It wasn't my secret to tell," she replied with a puzzled expression on her face. She noticed Reed chuckle. "Commander?"

"Nothing," Reed replied shaking his head. "It's just odd, I thought we had pulled Trip's "death" off pretty well on Enterprise, but you always doubted it and then I found out that Travis doubted it … now I wonder if anyone actually believed it."

"Well, I'm sure people that didn't have a close relationship with him did," she said shrugging her shoulders. "I always thought it was out of character for him. You know, a guy like Trip would think of a smarter way to die."

"As if there is such a thing," Malcolm nodded his head in agreement. "Are you going over the plan again?" he asked her inclining his head toward the blueprint.

"Just anticipating the unexpected," she remarked. "I think we have enough fire power to fight our own private war. Were you expecting a longer trip Commander?"

Malcolm stood upright and opened up the door to the locker proudly. The inside was packed with stun grenades, phase rifles, and phase pistols. Twenty torpedoes lined the walls of the small room and another ten were stowed in the pod bay. "You think this is too much?"

"We're breaking one guy out of jail, not an army!" she laughed. "You have more flash-bangs in these three lockers combined than the entire armory on the Republic."

"You never can be too prepared Major," Malcolm replied flatly

Kirstin caught the twinkle in his eye and started to laugh at her friend. _A guy that gets turned on by ordnance …. no wonder why he's still single. _

* * *

The tingling sensation in his legs was really starting to bother him. He had been concentrating on it for awhile and just couldn't shake it. He could feel his legs and even with a little effort could move them around a bit. But the pins and needles wouldn't stop and quite frankly it frightened him.

How many times had the guards kicked him? He lost count after ten or maybe it was twelve. Why the number even matter evaded him completely. Whatever damage his spine had endured today would never fully heal. They would never allow it. Tomorrow or the next day they would return and target their frustrations on some other part of his anatomy. He didn't care anymore. His body had given up its will long ago; it was his stubborn pride that got in the way of his final demise. Every night his mind and body waged a silent battle over whether that night should be the last night he took a breath. Then every morning he would awake and the vicious cycle would start all over again. Even the guards were amazed at his resiliency, often commenting that a lesser man would have succumbed to death much sooner. Tucker surmised they were referring to themselves since he was the only alien housed in this facility.

If it wasn't the guards beating the crap out of him, it was another resident of the luxury hotel taking his pleasure either physically or mentally or a combination of the two. The door to his cell was always open. The guards refused to lock it and at times he was certain there was a neon sign flashing _please disturb _on the outside wall. He used to fight back. In the first couple of months he even schemed on how he was going to break out of the hell hole, but they broke his will after the second attempt. As the days and nights began to run together he stopped believing '_the agency'_ would come for him.

It wasn't the first time he was in prison during his six year stint with '_the agency'_. The last time he found himself residing in this type of accommodation, Malcolm was the one to spring him. Mr. Reed had gotten a kick out of that op, referring to his team as "the big guns". Reed managed to bust him out after thirty three days. This time he knew he was doomed. Eight months had passed and no one had come or maybe they had and found he had been moved. It had occurred twice, very suddenly. First he was held on Romulus, then on a moon a few parsecs away and then finally on this god forsaken asteroid.

Trip started to cough and the cringed as a sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. He rolled slowly onto his back and stared blankly at the low ceiling. The floor was cold and felt good against his wounded spine. He struggled to bring his hands together, folding one around the other and resting them across his chest. Very gently with the slightest of movement he rubbed his thumb over his palm. The friction began to relax him immediately as memories of his partner flooded through his mind.

She had taught him to relax like this early in their relationship before he even considered anything romantic between them. He had avoided it for months because she reminded him of … she even looked similar to ….. frustrated and argued with him just like her …T'Pol. In all the ways they were the same, they were completely different. Lennae was open with her feelings where T'Pol was a jigsaw puzzle. Lennae knew what she wanted and went after it, when T'Pol wanted to play cat and mouse games. Lennae knew he wasn't a Romulan and didn't care, while T'Pol had fretted over their interspecies relationship. As much as he knew T'Pol would never deceive him and would always have his back, Lennae was a spy and in his heart he couldn't trust her. But it didn't stop him from loving her … and that is what got him into trouble. Her cover had been compromised and before he could retreat they were caught.

He blocked the angry memories from his mind concentrating only on the sensation on his palm. The friction was like a tranquilizer evoking memories of the quiet moments between them and the unbridled passion that boiled in their soul. Most nights it was the only thing that saved him from the ugliness of the prison.

So trapped in his thoughts he barely registered the footfall just outside his door. The steps were crisp and calculated not the heavy and sluggish march of the prima-donnas in charge. Trip lie still, like a possum, pretending to be unconscious but acutely aware of the movement around him. There were two approaching his tattered body and at least one in the corridor. The clean scent of their bodies startled his senses and he panicked when he realized it was no one he knew…not a guard, or the medic or the rapist from down the hall. His injuries from today's beating left him defenseless and he could do nothing to protect himself or fend off the cold stab of the needle at the side of his neck.

As the warm venom streamed through his veins he felt his body being handled by a stranger. The movements were quick and deliberate, an assessment of sorts. Trip opened his eyes to a blur of faces above him. He struggled to focus as he tried to discern whether this was real or another cruel trick of his imagination. He heard muted voices around him and was sure they were talking to him. _Commander Doyle? _Did the voice really say his name … or his cover name that he never got used to hearing or using? How did they know? Trip chose not to answer out of fear that his capturers would use it against him. His Romulan cover had already been blown, but as far as he knew they had yet to figure out his true identity.

He didn't have time to contemplate it for long. The hands rolled him to his side and the pins and needles sensation returned immediately. A stabbing pain sliced through his body and he cried out in protest to the one that was tormenting him.

"Sorry Trip," a female voice whispered.

_Trip? _Yeah, he heard it right this time, but who were these people to him? A female at that? _If I had the nerve to trust myself that almost sounded like Mackenzie, _Trip thought as his mind scrambled to make sense of it all. The truth was he didn't trust himself or them at this moment. He felt the arms roll him over on his back and noticed immediately the surface below him had changed. No longer was he lying on the cold floor, there was some type of fabric buffering him now. Trip could barely believe his ears when the female voice spoke again.

"Strike one to Big Gun, the package is loaded."

"Aye strike one," a male voice with a thick British accent answered. "We're clearing out."

"Roger that Big Gun. Strike one to Hero, four to transport."

The echo of the British accent brought tears of relief to Tucker's eyes. _Sonavabitch, _Trip thought as the liquid rolled down his face. He felt the sensation of the transporter beam wash over his body. _Reed and his big guns. _

* * *

Three was starting to be a number of significance in her life.

It was three years before she admitted to herself that she truly had feelings for Trip and three days she suffered through the rage of jealousy over Amanda Cole before she seduced him. She made it through three months of torture when she was forced to marry Koss. After her divorce when she thought Trip would understand and just be there for her, she dealt with three months of agony when he transferred to Columbia to get away from her. And then he let her squirm and practically beg him to return for three days before he told her he had transferred back.

He let her think he was dead for three days, not that she truly believed that in her heart. She last saw him three years ago. Reed had asked her to join the mission three weeks ago. She had been sitting at the side of his bed watching him sleep for the past three hours. She barely recognized him, let alone herself.

Much had changed in her life since they last had contact. He had come to her and asked her to join his mission. She turned him down flat. He would never know the regret she felt at the harsh words she had spoken, how they haunted her like a ghost that would not move on to its final resting place. Even as the bond between them severed and she lost her instincts about him his ghost remained apart of her. After time, she decided it lingered to remind her he was dead and to taunt her into believing she was somehow responsible.

T'Pol stood from his bed and walked toward the window in the small medical bay. She crossed her arms at her chest and stared blindly at the star field streaming past. Three months ago she had reached out to Jon with her dilemma. She never meant to ask him directly, merely looking for a confidant. She expected him to say no, had prepared for his refusal and even ran away from him when he tried to accept. Archer refused to be let off the hook so easily and chased her all the way to her mother's house. He filled her need for three days in the privacy of T'Pol's home. Three days of unadulterated hunger, of exploration and hidden passion between them.

Then thirty days later her life was turned upside down. On the same day her doctor told her she was carrying his child, Admiral Miller at the Earth Embassy on Vulcan informed her Jonathan Archer was dead. He was killed instantly when struck by a hovercab while crossing the street in San Francisco. The irony of it all floored her. The man who saved Earth from a terrible enemy and brokered many peace treaties was dead from a meaningless accident. A miracle child would be born yet would never feel his father's touch or understand his mind or know that he once carried Surak's soul.

T'Pol ran her hand over her stomach and tilted her head as she felt pressure against her palm. Her reason for being here was selfish and she prayed that he would not turn her down. Her child needed a father and there was no one better to raise Jonathan's son but the man who lay on that biobed.

The chirp of the communicator pulled her from her thoughts. T'Pol walked quickly to the side of Tucker's bed to pick it up. "T'Pol," she answered after flipping it open.

"Commander, your presence is needed on the bridge," Sergeant Kavan said flatly.

"I'm on my way," she replied looking down at Tucker's sleeping form. She closed the device and quietly left the room.

* * *

"Lieutenant!" Reed called down the corridor when he saw Bowyer walk out of the mess hall. The guy was hard to miss. He looked like a linebacker from the Chicago Bears packaged neatly in a lab coat and a buzz hair cut. Reed jogged a few steps to catch up to him. "What's the prognosis?"

Bowyer finished swallowing his protein shake and turn to toss the empty container in the waste receptacle before answering. "I've stabilized him for now," Bowyer said avoiding eye contact with Reed.

"And?" Reed asked resting his hands on his hips, when Bowyer didn't respond immediately he crossed his arms at his chest. "Why do I get the impression you aren't telling me everything?"

"Commander, I'm a medic…"

"You're a little more than the average medic Lieutenant," Reed interrupted him.

"Okay…but I'm not a miracle worker," the Lieutenant replied flatly.

"I'm not asking for miracles," Reed began to counter until Bowyer's interrupted.

"Well you should be because I've seen dead men with fewer injuries."

The bluntness of the comment took Reed back a bit. He tilted his head and chuckled at the irony. "I'm sure Commander Doyle will take that as a compliment. But he's…"

"As I said, he's stable for now. I've removed as much of the cosmetic alternations as I can and at his insistence, shaved his head. He'll need a couple more passes through the imaging chamber before he'll be about to walk on his own."

"It's probably about time that I fill him in on what's been going on these past few months," Malcolm muttered aloud. "Is he awake?"

"That depends if Commander T'Pol is in the room or not," Bowyer said looking at his watch. "I had Kavan call her to the bridge a couple of hours ago. He doesn't seem to sleep much if she is around."

Reed nodded and chose his words carefully. "They served together on Enterprise," he finally explained taking the low road to describe their history.

"Hmm," Bowyer grumbled rolling his eyes. He didn't need Reed to explain the obvious. It was clear to the medic the two were star-crossed lovers. His patient could barely take his eyes off the Vulcan and she hadn't left the room since the Commander had come on board. "Well, he was just dozing when I left the bay about forty minutes ago. Schmidt is on watch while I catch some shut eye. I'll check on him again in three hours or so," Bowyer replied.

"Thank you Lieutenant," Malcolm remarked watching the man walk away. _Thank you for understanding, for being intuitive, for saving Trip's ass and for damn sure being the miracle worker that I needed for this mission. _Malcolm hesitated in the corridor for only a moment more as he thought about the promise that had led him to this moment.

Everyone at _'the agency' _was aware of Trip's imprisonment before it even happened. Tucker's partner and sometimes lover, Lennae, had inadvertently compromised their cover and before Harris could get word to Trip to retreat, he was caught. Since Harris had played match-maker with the two operatives, he made it his personal mission to recover Tucker at all costs. And so he did … the Romulans very conveniently returned the Agency boss to Starfleet Security in a nice pine box. Once Harris was out of the picture, Tucker's extraction became Malcolm's crusade.

Reed brought in the most ruthless couriers to carry out the deed, the Nausicaan's. While their methods were questionable, Nausicaans were known across the galaxy for getting the job done. They had the intel and nearly had him twice, but both times arrived only to find Tucker had been moved to another facility just that day. They suspected a leak in their chain and all arrows pointed at Lennae. She _was_ a spy after all. The new agency boss, Bailey, set a trap for her and when she fell right into it, he took her out. After she was removed from the picture, the Nausicaan's got the scoop on Tucker's location and then ran interference for Reed and his team for the retrieval.

Raver, the Nausicaan operative, and T'Pol kept the guards busy with a supply load at the docking hatch which allowed Reed and the MACO's time to beam in, sweep the prison block for the package, quickly assess his condition and beam out. The security or lack there of at the facility perplexed Reed a bit, despite that Raver had forewarned the team about it. Raver's boasts that with hardly any effort he could walk Trip right out the front gate was nearly the truth. They faced little resistance and found Tucker's cell wide open.

It was his friend's physical condition that shocked him the most. The Romulans were known for their harsh interrogation methods, but after eight months Reed thought they would have given up. Apparently that wasn't the case as Tucker's initial scans showed nearly every bone in his body had been broken and not just once. His current injuries included several crushed vertebrae, cracked ribs and a fractured pelvis. And that was only the start of the list, Malcolm was certain Bowyer could rattle off a whole slew of conditions if he pressed the Lieutenant hard enough. The truth of the matter was, as long as Trip was alive and safe, Reed didn't really need to know. All that mattered is that he made good on the promise he made to Archer on the day that he died.

Archer had made his request to Reed during their weekly lunch date. The Admiral and Reed had a standing reservation at a little café in downtown San Francisco every Wednesday at eleven thirty. The 'formality' of the Captain-Lieutenant relationship had long drifted away and a true friendship had formed between them. Malcolm often felt it was because of Trip's disappearance, but whatever the catalyst, it became a friendship that Malcolm cherished.

Archer would often inquire about Trip by dropping obscure hints knowing that Reed was in touch with the Commander on a semi-regular basis. But lately those hints had given away the true sense of concern for their friend and in a desperate plea the Admiral made Reed promise to bring him home alive once and for all. Unfortunately Archer would never live to see it through. They went their separate ways after lunch that day. Archer had told him that he was going to window shop for a baby gift and Reed cabbed it back to Command. Three hours later Reed heard the news, that Archer had been struck by a car while crossing the street and died instantly from his injuries. After that Malcolm knew he could no longer leave Trip's extraction in the hands of strangers. He had to bring him home in honor of Jonathan Archer.

A few minutes later Malcolm found himself standing at the end of Trip's bed. Tucker appeared to be fast asleep and Reed quietly stared at the monitor on the wall that tracked all his vital statistics.

"I hope that's a pin up you're staring at," Tucker grumbled as he peered up at Malcolm.

"Trip," Malcolm mumbled looking down at him.

"Malcolm," Trip replied gruffly. "I guess I owe you another thank you."

"It's all part of the job my friend," Malcolm replied nonchalantly. "According to the monitor you're still alive, how do you actually feel?"

"Well," Trip mumbled closing his eyes. "It's all relative I guess. I can finally open my eyes without feeling like my brains are being squeezed out my pores. I can wiggle my toes without feeling a thousand needles sticking in them and I guess at some point down the road I'll be able to take a crap again without my insides falling out." He looked over at Malcolm and shrugged. "Was that colorful enough for you?"

"Yeah, thanks for the description," Reed replied rolling his eyes.

"It really doesn't matter though," Trip added quietly. "My three wishes were all fulfilled today …I heard Mackenzie's voice in my cell mention your name, I woke up on a biobed in a real Starfleet medical bay and found T'Pol sitting next to me. Considering I asked God this morning why he was forcing me to live my days in agony, I couldn't want anything more." Trip was quiet for a minute. "Unless of course you tell me that Cap'n Archer is sitting on the bridge."

Malcolm cringed at the mention of Archer's name. He had a lot to tell Trip, but that could wait for later. He just smiled and shook his head. "T'Pol is on bridge watch right now."

Trip took a deep breath and exhaled slowly still feeling pain in his side. "Major Mackenzie told me you sent the Nausicaans after me."

"Yeah, your old friend Raver," Reed smiled happy the subject was moving away from Archer. "He was quite efficient in getting the intel to retrieve you." Malcolm laughed leaning against the biobed.

"Efficient? I was in that hell-hole for five months. I have half a mind to tell Harris to shove this crap up his ass when I get home," Trip chuckled and then stopped when he noticed the serious expression on Reed's face. "What?"

Malcolm looked down at the floor. "Harris is dead," he replied flatly.

"What you mean by dead?" Trip asked with a perplexed expression on his face. "Guys like Harris don't die."

Reed bit his lip and nodded his head. "He felt responsible for your capture and went undercover to retrieve you. He was compromised and the Romulans made an example out of him. They sent him back to Starfleet in a box."

"Harris came after me?" Tucker scoffed. "What'd I do to deserve that?" he chuckled in a low growl.

"Well according to the reports, you were his number one operative," Reed replied.

"Like hell," Tucker said rolling his eyes. "You're only as good as your last op. If you make it home you're a hero. If not, they run your name through the mud to scare the younger agents. Besides, everyone knew Bailey was his number one."

"Yeah, well Bailey is the boss now," Malcolm remarked, biting his finger nail nervously. "And he called in the Big Guns to get you back."

Trip groaned and shook his head. "I see you're still calling your team that … although back in the cell it was music too my ears."

"If the shoe fits," Reed chanted. "Between Harris and Bailey, they sent three other retrieval teams in to get you. Harris was killed and the others came up empty handed." Malcolm put his fist to his mouth and blew on his fingertips. "Then I was called in."

"Ah, the shit is getting deep in here," Trip moaned pulling to pillow over his head.

"I'll say," remarked the voice of Travis Mayweather from the doorway. "What kind of chest thumping ceremony did I walk into?"

"Travis Mayweather," Trip mumbled when he saw the African American helmsman at the door. "I should have known you'd be the only guy that could pilot a starship into enemy territory undetected to rescue me."

Travis smiled and shook his head. "It all depends on the ship, sir. This is no ordinary starship." The perplexed expression on Tucker's face led Reed to fill in the blanks.

"It's a prototype," Reed remarked shrugging his shoulders. He left it at that so Tucker wouldn't jump out of the bed and head down to the engine room. "It has all the bells and whistles that turn you on. You can check it out later when you're feeling up to it."

The comm line crackled in the background breaking up their reunion conversation. "Bridge to Commander Reed."

Malcolm walked quickly to the nearest comm panel and pushed the talk button. "Reed here."

"Commander we just picked up two Romulan scout ships on an intercept course," Sergeant Kavan reported.

"Mayweather and I will be right there," Reed replied. He let go of the button and looked over at Trip. "Looks like you're not out of the woods yet my friend."

* * *

"Report!" Reed barked as soon as he entered the bridge.

"They came out from behind the moon cluster," T'Pol remarked calmly as she stood up from the helm seat. She crossed the bridge to the port wall and took a position at the open station next to Sergeant Kavan. "I've scanned their vessels. Impressive weaponry, but no match for us speed wise."

"Shields up, tactical alert," Reed replied staring at the view screen. "Mr. Mayweather get us out of here maximum warp."

Mayweather powered up the engines and the small ship shot forward at warp seven leaving the two scout ships in their wake. Their get away was short lived as proximity alarms started to echo around the small bridge and a large Romulan war bird de-cloaked just off their starboard side.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Reed yelled out as Hero took the brunt of the warbird's weapons at nearly point blank range. The shields fended off most of the blast, but the ship still rocked under the pressure.

"They're targeting the shield generators!" Kavan screamed from a port side work station. "Shields down thirty five percent!"

"Forward shields are gone! The starboard nacelle's been hit," T'Pol yelled over the bridge alarms. "We're dropping out of warp!"

The next volley of weapons fire knocked Reed completely out of his chair as the display panel in front of him exploded. Lieutenant Alvarez ran across the bridge and felt his neck for a pulse. A long laceration covered half of his face and she reached for the med kit behind his chair. As she applied direct pressure to the wound she heard the other members of the team report their status.

"T'Pol!" Mayweather called to her from the helm. "The war bird is coming around for another pass."

"I'm reading a nebula a half a parsec from here," Major Mackenzie spat out.

"Mr. Mayweather evasive pattern Zeta," T'Pol called out. The pattern was risky and called for Mayweather to barrel roll the ship under their attacker to make their get away. "Major Mackenzie all available power to shields! Mr. Kavan fire at will!"

"Forward shields are down!" Mackenzie reiterated as her hands flew over the console. "Aft shields are at eighty percent."

"Direct hit to their weapons array," Kavan added as he watched the explosion on the sensor array. "They're retreating!"

T'Pol scanned the sensor array and quickly considered their options. The war bird was temporarily disabled but the scout ships were quickly approaching. The Neutral Zone was still five light years away and would be a long trip with a damaged starboard nacelle. They were only one ship and there was no way in hell she would surrender to the Romulan's. The nebula was their only option at this point. Hopefully they could hide there while Mayweather or Reed or one of the technicians in Engineering could get the warp drive back on line.

"Travis, set a course for the nebula, maximum speed!" she ordered from her console.

"Aye sir," he responded as he brought the impulse engines on line.

The ship shook uncontrollably as it rocketed toward the gassy mass in front of them. The bridge began eerily quiet as the ship made it up to speed. The only sound heard were the consoles rattling against each other and the clicks and pops of the fried wiring from the blown panels.

"Thirty seconds to the nebula," Mackenzie reported from her monitoring station on the starboard side of the small room.

"Those scout ships will be on us before then," Kavan bellowed. "They're targeting the aft weapons array! All hands brace for impact!"

The weapons fire caught them as they reached the outer edges of the nebula. The assault spun the ship out of control and rolled it on its axis knocking the crew to the deck. T'Pol stepped out of herself and watched as her body slammed back against the bulkhead and fell to the deck, her head bouncing against the thin carpet covering of the floor. Only Mayweather remained in his seat and fought desperately to gain control of the ship. After a moment, Kavan and Mackenzie recovered enough to pull themselves upright at their stations.

"I'm reading some type of corridor dead ahead," Mackenzie muttered from the comm station to Mayweather's right. Her hands flew over the console as she tried to bring the image up on the viewer. The screen flickered for a moment and a snowy picture appeared revealing a funnel like phenomenon in front of them.

"It's pulling us in," Mayweather blurted out as the ship lurched forward. "Attempting to reverse thrusters," he hit the control to reverse the ship but nothing happened. "Dammit!" he yelled hitting the console. "Bridge to Engineering…..Engineering respond!"

"Communications are down sir," Kavan coughed out behind him.

"What about the Romulans?" Mayweather asked crawling under his station and pulling wires to connect the manual over-ride system.

"Nothing on the grid," Mackenzie said as she surveyed the remaining crew on the bridge. Ensign Conroy was lying next to her on the deck presumably dead with a gaping laceration across his neck. Reed was awake and attempting to stand, Lt. Alvarez was scanning T'Pol with the tricorder while Kavan was pulling wires out of the station just above their heads trying to get communications back on line.

"What the hell is that?" Reed said loudly looking directly at the view screen. The outburst caused everyone still standing to direct their eyes at the viewer.

The snowy view screen gave way to the purplish-blue nebula gasses and free floating gelatinous bubbles that surrounded the ship. The pattern resembled a slinky tube, expanding and contracting as Hero tumbled along. 'That' which Reed was referring to was the second corridor that appeared to be bouncing in space just in front of them. "Travis how's that manual override coming?"

"Almost there Commander!"

"We're out of time!" Reed shouted sliding into the helm chair. He looked up at the view screen again just as Hero intersected the second sub space corridor. "Grab hold of something!" Reed roared as the ship pitched over onto its top and skidding down the second wormhole.

Travis rolled to the side and braced himself against the leg of the helm station. He looked up at the view screen, watching the events unfold in front of him. It wasn't just one wormhole they had intersected; it looked like a spaghetti bowl of them. The ship was spiraling powerless through the interior of one corridor and then as it collided with a bubble, the ship was bounced like a tennis ball in another direction. The bridge was eerily quiet behind him and Mayweather crawled out from under the helm station to take inventory of their status.

Kavan, T'Pol, and Alvarez were all unconscious on the deck. Reed was slumped over the helm station and Mackenzie was half in, half out of her chair at the monitoring station. He heard a groan coming from her direction and guessed she was beginning to wake. Travis checked the four downed officer's for a pulse and when he was satisfied they were alive headed for Mackenzie. "Kirstin?" he called shaking her shoulder slightly.

"Geezus, what happened?" she mumbled looking back at him. "Ow!" she winced as she moved her head.

"You okay?" Travis asked her, his voice riddled with concern.

"No," she grimaced moving her left arm slowly. "What?" she moaned as he grabbed a med kit and a medical tricorder. She watched as he ran it over her shoulder.

"We're drifting. We intersected a couple of worm holes," Travis remarked. "It's dislocated," he said looking down at her and motioning to her shoulder. "Can you see if you have anything on sensors?"

"Agh, yea," Kirstin answered holding her arm against her side. She slumped into the console and punched some buttons on the panel trying to get some data to appear on the monitor in front of her.

Mayweather crossed the bridge and ran the tricorder over each of the fallen crew. Conroy was dead, Alvarez and Kavan had head injuries and from what he could tell, seemingly minor concussions, Reed was in far worse shape and T'Pol … the readout caught him off guard completely. _Holy shit! _he thought staring at the tricorder. _She's friggen pregnant! _He stared at it with a dumbfounded expression on his face. _Is she okay? Run the scanner over her again! _he yelled at himself while he ran the device back over her body. He stared at the readout and shook his head. _She's…. pregnant, frig I don't even know how to read the….. _

"Travis!" Mackenzie called out. "I ah ….. I'm reading a ship!"

Mayweather looked back across the bridge, dropped the tricorder and then got up and jogged across the small room toward her. He stared up at the view screen as he passed. "How close?"

"I ahh… I think it's right above us?" she looked up at him with a perplexed expression on her face.

"Romulan?"

"No ….unidentified…there's a temporal sig…." her voice trailed off as Mayweather stood over her shoulder. Mackenzie transferred the data to the main viewer and tried to clean up the static a bit. The image of the wormhole environment was similar to the earlier view with the exception of the color. Instead of the purplish blue backdrop, space had an icy blue hue to it. Mayweather wasn't even noticing though, he was looking at the sensor data on the screen and trying to manipulate the ship attitude control to correct the ships orientation. As the vessel began to right itself Mackenzie became acutely aware of the proximity of the other ship. "Holy shit!" she yelped punching a couple of keys on the panel. "Brace for impact!"

"What?" Travis barely mumbled when the second vessel scraped across the top of NX-42 and threw it into another barrel roll. The impact overloaded the console in front of them and sent both Mackenzie and Mayweather violently to the deck. The last thing Travis remembered was a blinding white light filling the bridge and stunning his senses.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Timeline: S4 of SGA, between Lifeline and Reunion. My impression is that several weeks passed between these two episodes while the IOA made their decision about the new leader of the expedition. So, on that note, Colonel Sheppard is in-charge.

Chapter Two

"Jumper one to flight, we're on New Athos," Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard said dryly he flew the ship over the landscape. This was the first time a jumper had traveled through the Atlantis gate to New Athos since both Atlantis and the Athosian's home had been relocated.

"Roger that Jumper one," Chuck replied from the control room.

Sheppard circled back toward the gate and looked at Dr. McKay sitting in the passenger seat. The man was totally engrossed in his laptop. Sheppard cleared his throat and gave Rodney a glare.

"What?" McKay exclaimed looking at Sheppard with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Dial…the… gate," Sheppard replied slowly enunciating every word.

"Why didn't you just say so?" McKay replied reaching over to the DHD.

"Why did I have to? It's not like we're over here for dinner and a show!" Sheppard growled under his breath. "If you were paying attention…."

"Excuse me if I have some scientific data to calculate!" Rodney snapped back at him as he slammed his hand down on the last symbol. "You act like my job isn't important …. Well let me tell you buddy … just remember that the next time … ow!" Rodney squeezed his hand and shook it out. He grimaced in pain which garnered another stern stare from Sheppard. Before either could say another word, the jumper was hovering in the gate room.

"Are we home yet?" Sheppard said as the ship returned to the hanger bay under auto pilot.

"Ah," McKay shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Could we just do one more?" he looked over at John and caught the tail end of another dirty stare. "With the new orbital gate?"

"I thought we agreed that we weren't going to be playing around with that gate unless absolutely necessary!" John growled tersely.

"Yes I did agree to do that," Rodney replied. "But, but, but since we deployed it we never really tested it with a jumper and I, for one, would certainly be really annoyed if I was in a jumper that needed to go somewhere and then found out that it wasn't working."

John blew a puff of air out of his mouth. "Fine," he replied flatly. Running a test on the thing would probably be a good idea, if for no other reason that to make sure that Rodney had the new address set correctly. "Jumper One to flight, we're going to run a test on the orbital gate. Dial it up and clear the gate room for launch."

"Gate room is clear Colonel," replied Chuck over the radio.

John activated the auto pilot and waited as the ship dropped through the launch doors into the gate room. When the jumper was lined up, they shot through the gate and emerged in space between the third and fourth moon.

"Jumper one to flight, we're in space," Sheppard said with a voice that droned on with a thick hint of boredom.

"Could you say that with a little more enthusiasm?" mocked Rodney from the passenger's seat. "For someone that likes to play in aircraft, you certainly aren't acting like you're having any fun."

"That's because I'm not having fun! I have a crap load of paperwork that I have to get done and transmit back to the IOA by tomorrow afternoon," Sheppard grumbled sighing heavily. "I can't have any fun until …. until the IOA names a director of the expedition."

"So you don't want the position?" Rodney prodded carefully.

"No I don't want the damn position! I can deal with it on a temporary basis but I hate desk jobs! I'd rather be in the field with my team doing the dirty work," Sheppard said as he piloted the jumper around the moon.

"Oh that's great! I mean … I'm sorry to hear that you don't want it," Rodney babbled excitedly. "I personally think that it should be a scientist anyway … it is a scientific expedition."

"Yeah, whatever," Sheppard replied not really hearing whatever he said. They flew in silence for a few minutes while Sheppard looped around the moon and then flew the jumper back toward the gate. "Dial the gate."

"Dial gate Rodney, fix the problem Rodney, figure out a solution Rodney," McKay muttered under his breath. "Can't anyone just ask nicely? Geezus!"

"Dial the gate, _please." _Sheppard repeated emphasizing the please. He rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath at McKay.

"Fine! Alright," McKay said reaching over to start the dialing sequence. The jumper flew around from the blind side of the moon just as the gate activated. Both McKay and Sheppard looked out the windshield in disbelief. "Whoa whoa whoa! What's coming through?"

Sheppard cloaked the ship immediately and reduced speed. He looked at the DHD which only had half the symbols punched in. "You sure you didn't do that?" Sheppard asked him.

"No I didn't do that! The gate should have been shut down. I haven't even finished the dialing sequence!"

"Something's coming through!" Sheppard snapped as the two men watched as a ship double the size of the jumper and nearly three times as long tumbled through the aperture. Considering the height of the ship, it barely cleared the circumference of the gate.

"What the hell?" Sheppard muttered as the ship rolled end over end a couple of times and then drifted powerless a few hundred meters from the gate. Sheppard flew the jumper over to get a closer look at it.

"It looks like a dolphin," McKay muttered as they flew up to it.

"I was thinking more like a marlin," Sheppard said playing devils advocate with McKay. "Where the hell did it come from? There aren't any worlds in Pegasus that have, much less could build, a ship like that."

Sheppard and McKay stared at the vessel in awe as the jumper slowly crept over it. Two engine nacelles were contained in what appeared to be the forward section. A dorsal fin stretched across the top and was channeled for aerodynamics. Located in the aft section were four exhaust ports. Sheppard pointed to scorching just below them on the ventral panels.

"Looks like weapon fire," he muttered as they orbited the ship.

"If that's weapons fire, then what this?" McKay asked pointing to a huge dent on the dorsal fin.

"Collision?" Sheppard said shrugging his shoulders. "Whatever hit them looks like it knocked that valance loose, which was probably a good thing otherwise they would have never made it through the gate." Sheppard cued up the HUD array on the jumper and scanned the interior for life signs.

"I'm reading eleven life signs on board," he muttered looking at the screen. "Oxygen atmosphere…"

"Human?" McKay asked tentatively interrupting the Colonel.

"What you think they're Martians?" Sheppard scowled. "Jumper One to flight."

"Flight go ahead."

"An unidentified vessel has come through the orbital gate and is adrift. I'm reading human bio-signs on board that are weak. I need a security team, a couple of medics, and Zelenka up here on the double in two jumpers. _**Do not**_ have them come through the gate, McKay needs to access the memory core to determine where this ship came from."

"Roger that Colonel."

"Okay, if I was a docking port where would I be?" Sheppard muttered to himself as he flew the jumper around the ship again.

"Docking port?" McKay blurted out. "You're not thinking of boarding that thing before the security team gets here are you?"

"That's exactly what we're going to do," John replied. He located two docking ports and a small bay of some type on the ventral side of the ship. Two additional ports were located near the center on both the starboard and port sides. Sheppard decloaked the jumper and then maneuvered it into place under the alien vessel.

"We?" Rodney exclaimed. "What if they're hostile? They might have weapons that we haven't seen before!" Rodney tapped a couple of keys on his laptop and then looked up at the sensor display again. When he heard the thunk of the two ships making contact with each other at the docking port he looked at Sheppard with a bewildered expression on his face. "Wait, wait, wait, I'm reading a temporal displacement emanating from the ship!"

"A what?"

"A temporal displacement!" Rodney snapped back in his usual _I have to be loud to explain this correctly _voice. "Meaning the ship is out of sync with our timeline!" He pointed at his laptop and waved his hands at the other ship to make his point.

John furrowed his brow and stared at McKay with a quizzical expression on his face. "What does being out of temporal sync have to do with our lending aide to the crew?"

"Ah, nothing …. unless the ship powers up and takes off while we're on board," Rodney replied with a sing-songy snotty voice.

"Are you reading any power signatures?" Sheppard asked standing up from his seat. He reached in to the seat pocket behind his chair and pulled out his P-90. He clipped the gun to his flack jacket and leaned over the seat to pull a life-sign detector from its storage compartment next to his seat.

"No, it's adrift," McKay replied plainly.

"Good, then there's no chance of it taking off now is there?" Sheppard replied. He turned and walked to the aft section of the jumper stuffing the LSD in his breast pocket of his vest. He stepped up on the bench seat and grabbed the airlock control, turning the locking mechanism to the open position. The airlock engaged and Sheppard waited for a moment while the space between the two ships pressurized. When the ready light activated on the panel, Sheppard pushed the hatch opened. Before climbing through it, he looked back at McKay still sitting in the passenger seat in the cockpit. "Are you coming?"

"Oh, you're really going over there?" Rodney asked with a panicked expression on his face.

"Yes Rodney, grab the med kit and get your ass through the hatch!" Sheppard growled as he turned and crawled through the airlock.

"Fine!" McKay replied practically running to the aft section of the jumper. He pulled to med kit over his shoulder and scrambled through the hatch following his commanding officer. Once through, he ran right into the back of Sheppard who was standing inside the alien ship staring at a computer panel. "What? Why are you stopped? You were in such a hurry to get over here!"

"This panel is in English," Sheppard mumbled touching the screen. He poked a few buttons and brought up a ship schematic. "Looks like the ship is on emergency power." Sheppard turned his head and peered down the darkened corridor. "Emergency lighting is on."

"Maybe its not really English," McKay rambled not paying attention to what the Colonel was saying. "It might be telekinesis or a hologram," McKay began to ramble.

"Rodney!" Sheppard yelled at him and pointed to the panel.

Rodney looked at the panel and noticed the wording on the screen. "It's English, big whoop!" he repeated. He shook his head and looked at Sheppard. "Look they're obviously from a different time parallel."

"Time parallel?" Sheppard repeated with a confused expression on his face.

Rodney scowled in frustration. "Remember when that other me showed up a couple of years ago …when we were testing that…" he paused waving his hand around to find the right word for their experiment.

"You mean the cooler you?" Sheppard said jokingly.

Rodney ignored the comment and continued to explain. "He came from an alternate universe. The temporal displacement of the ship means it too came from a different universe."

"In a galaxy just like Pegasus, but in an alternate time line," Sheppard said to show McKay that he understood what he was trying to say. He did understand, but was still questioning it. _This ship seems a little too advanced for a galaxy containing the Wraith. Maybe the Wraith has been annihilated in their timeline, _Sheppard thought turning to head down the corridor. He glanced back at the schematic and then brought his P-90 in a defensive position in his right hand and the life-signs detector in his left.

"Where are you going?" McKay asked

"This way," Sheppard said motioning toward the forward section. "According to the map crew quarters and Engineering are on this deck. I'm reading three bio-signatures down here." Sheppard continued down the corridor past a number of unmarked doors until the life signs detector started to flash. He stopped in front of an interior door and shoved the device into his pocket. "There's someone in this room," he remarked illuminating the door jam with the flashlight from the P-90. He noticed a panel on the wall next to the door and pointed the P-90 at it. "Can you do something with that?" he asked Rodney motioning at the door.

"Besides shoot it?" Rodney asked nervously. "Sure Rodney fix this," he mumbled as he pulled the cover off the panel and squinted in at the wiring. "There's nothing too rocket science about this," he said holding two of the wires together until they sparked and the door partially slide open.

John pushed it the rest of the way and found a human male lying on the floor in middle of the room. He was dressed in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He surveyed the room with the light. "Crew quarters," he muttered as he held the light on the bunk bed along the wall. He watched Rodney step over the man and check for a pulse and breathing.

"He's alive at least," Rodney said waving the flashlight over the man's head. "There's a pretty big knot on his forehead." McKay waved the flashlight at the bed and back to the male. "Looks like he was sleeping on the top bunk, probably hit his head when the ship rolled over."

"There's nothing we can do for him. Come on, we have others to check on," Sheppard said motioning toward the door. He pulled the life signs detector out of his pocket and the inclined his head toward the right. "This way," he mumbled heading down the hall. They walked for less than a minute until they came up to a hatch marked: _Engineering. _He looked at Rodney. "Do you want the honors?"

"For what?"

"Get the first look at alien technology," Sheppard replied with arched eyebrows baiting his friend. "Did you get a look at the nacelle? The engine on this thing must be huge to power that." Sheppard took a step toward the door before McKay cut him off.

"I'll go first," McKay said blocking the Colonel with his arm. "You don't know how to open the door anyway." Rodney disabled the locking mechanism on the control and pushed the door open. Sheppard stood back and politely waited with a huge smirk on his face.

* * *

Major Mackenzie struggled to open her eyes. She was groggy and felt sleep tugging at her, teasing her relentlessly to let the darkness take over her thoughts. She took several breaths and forced her eyes open.

"I don't have time for this!" she muttered through her gritted teeth as she pushed her body up from the floor. "Have to protect …. my team," she growled wincing in pain as she put weight on her left arm. "Ouch! Dammit! Ya bitch!" she moaned as she pulled herself into a kneeling position.

Kirstin looked over at Mayweather lying next to her and felt tears well up in her eyes. For a moment she flashed back to the crush she had on him when they served on Enterprise. The flirtations were fun and alluring at first but turned to awkwardness after they had encountered the other Enterprise and discovered their temporal counterparts had gotten married and had three children. She shook it off as she grabbed his wrist feeling for a pulse. As she felt a weak beat in his veins, she searched the bridge for the medical tricorder.

She caught sight of it on the other side of the room by Commander T'Pol. Mackenzie grabbed the leg of her station and pulled herself into a standing position, gritting her teeth, wincing and bitching about the pain the entire time. She stumbled across the bridge, stepping over Commander Reed in the process and picked the device up off the floor. Mackenzie ran it over herself first to prove to her brain that she wasn't dying.

"Dislocated shoulder, bruising, minor cuts," she mumbled reading the screen. "Kid stuff Mac… nothing worth dying over," she said aloud to no one as she turned to scan Commander Reed. "Malcolm … he's not so good," she said noticing a pool of blood coming from the back of his head. She knelt at his side and gently ran her fingers under his neck. When she pulled them out, they were covered with blood. She looked over at the captain's chair where he was last sitting and noticed the blown panel. "Yeah, he's definitely not so good," she said staring down at the tricorder. Not so good barely described the readings she was seeing. Based on the scan, Reed was near death.

"Don't let that clutter your head Mac," she reminded herself as she pushed her weight against the helm station and stood up. She turned back to Alvarez, T'Pol and Kavan and ran a quick scan on each, just to confirm they were still alive and breathing. She didn't want to know anything else as it was just noise in her head. She couldn't do anything for them anyway. Kirstin was inept in the medical care department. Anything more complicated than applying a band-aide on a paper cut was beyond her abilities. Building weapons, running tactical situations, kicking the crap out of the bad guy, thinking strategically … those were her strengths.

She made her way back across the bridge and ran the scan on Mayweather. His condition was somewhere between worse than Alvarez but not as bad as Reed. The tricorder indicated that Travis could use a dose of some medication she could barely pronounce. "Okay," she mumbled frantically searching the bridge for the med kit. She found it on the floor behind the command chair and stuck the ampoule of medication into the hypospray. "Come on Travis, I need you to wake up," she muttered stepping back over to him and running her hand down the side of his face. "Someone needs to fly this thing and you know it's not going to be me. Remember when you tried to teach me how to fly to pod on Enterprise and I ran into everything?" She pushed the hypo into the side of his neck and then waiting a second to take the scan again.

"Okay Travis, I guess that helped you somehow … but you're not awake. Frak!" she muttered getting upset and feeling a tear run down her face. "Count to ten!" she scolded herself taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a second. "Pull it together Mac! You can't help anyone if you're freaking out!"

Mackenzie shook her head, pulled herself up with the leg of the console and slid into the chair at her station. She punched a couple of keys on the panel and cursed when she realized there wasn't any power going to it. "Overloaded," she mumbled pushing the chair back and peering underneath at the wiring. She slid out of the chair and knelt on the floor, pulling the fired wiring out. After a re-routing a few connections, she crawled back into the chair and brought internal and external sensors back on line.

There was static in the display and she keyed in a few lines of code trying to clear it up. As the data came up on the display she tilted her head in confusion. "Temporal displacement?' she muttered under her breath. _What the frig? _she thought as she continued to struggle with the array. She felt hot and zipped the front of her jumpsuit and haphazardly pulled her hair into a knot on her head. As she fiddled around with the display and the data, the picture suddenly became crystal clear.

"Hoo …lee….crap!" she muttered slowly when the display indicated a ship was docked with Hero and they had been boarded. Sensors indicated two humanoids on the upper deck heading toward the bridge.

In a microsecond Mackenzie transformed from the panic-stricken freaked out woman to a soldier ready to defend her position. Kirstin stood from her station, jumped over Mayweather and practically ran to the aft section of the bridge. She opened the weapons locker, grabbed a phase pistol and shoved it inside her jumpsuit. She stared blindly at the other weapons and then picked up a couple of stun grenades and stuck them into a utility pocket in her right pant leg. She eyeballed the phase rifle, but decided against it remembering with her dislocated shoulder she could barely move her left arm.

Kirstin walked back to console and checked to see where the boarding party was compared to her position. They had just cleared the medical bay, which meant they were less than twenty feet from the hallway to the bridge. Kirstin walked back to the doorway and pulled the cover off the door control. She pulled out the manual override and pushed the level down and watched as the door slid partially open.

Mackenzie put her right shoulder into the opening, shoving the door back another couple of inches and crept silently down the small corridor. As she pulled the stun grenade from her pocket, she could hear their voices echoing in the hallway. Kirstin tilted her head listening intently to their words and was slightly miffed when she realized they were speaking English.

* * *

"Please tell me that our first priority is going to be restoring power to bring the engines back on line," McKay rambled on as they left the medical bay. "I can't wait to run a diagnostic and see how the system functions as a whole."

"_Your_ first priority after we transport the injured back to Atlantis is to run a diagnostic on the gate to figure out where this ship came from," Sheppard reiterated to the scientist who had been overly "giddy" since they left the engine room. "We're not going to touch with the ship until…."

"Why not?" McKay interrupted turning around to face the Colonel.

"Because it's not _our_ ship Rodney," John explained plainly.

"How would they even know?" McKay argued turning back around and continuing down the hall. "We're saving their lives for kricesake!"

John scowled and shook his head. "How you would feel if someone messed around with the jumper while you were unconscious?" He looked down at the life signs detector and frowned. "I'm detecting movement ahead."

"I hardly think these people are going to care. They're human after all!" McKay rambled on oblivious to Sheppard behind him.

Sheppard heard the clank of something hitting the deck and looked down to see the blue cylinder roll past McKay's feet. It looked like one of their smoke grenades, but considering the pin was pulled, he didn't see any smoke. Fearing the worst, he dived for cover in the alcove five feet back from Rodney. "Rodney! Get down!" he yelled as he was taking cover.

"What?" Rodney began to say just as the grenade exploded.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw a flash and then heard the bang of the device but noticed there was no explosion like a regular grenade. Despite he was several feet away from the detonation, his ears were ringing. After a second he looked down the corridor to where McKay and he had just been standing. Rodney was face down on the deck. Sheppard stood up and walked quickly to Rodney's side, rolling him over and checking for a pulse. Rodney was out cold, blood was coming from his nose and a gash on his lower lip, but his pulse was strong and beating fast. John stepped flat against the bulkhead to check the hallway in front of him with the life signs detector before going any further. When he was certain there was no movement in the corridor he stepped to the opposite bulkhead to clear the corridor to his right.

"Drop your weapon!" A female voice ordered him.

Sheppard looked down the corridor to the right and found a human female with some type of weapon pointed directly at him. She was standing less than ten feet away. Sheppard checked her out quickly. Besides being completely beautiful, her left arm was dangling at an odd angle which told him her shoulder was dislocated or even broken. He could tell she was in a considerable amount of pain by the grimace on her face. She wore two insignia pins on her lapel, the eagle, globe and anchor of the Marine Corps and a gold oak leaf indicating she held the rank of Major. Her weapon reminded him of the stunners the Wraith carried and although he was sure it was different, he didn't want to be shot with it to find out.

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," he called out to her in a calm voice. "Stand down Major, I'm here to help you." He remained in a defensive position and kept the P-90 leveled on her.

"Shut up!" she yelled at him. "I don't recognize you or your weapon."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize my weapon needed to be introduced. This," he said waving the gun back and forth. "Is a P-90 machine gun. Light weight and very versatile," he said in his signature style. "And you are?"

The woman eyed him suspiciously. "Major Kirstin Mackenzie."

"Nice to meet you Major Kirstin Mackenzie, now if you'll lower your weapon, I can …."

"What planet are you from?" Mackenzie blurted out interrupting him. She jabbed her weapon in his direction.

"Earth," Sheppard replied plainly. "And you?" He watched her bite her lip and she lowered the weapon slightly.

"Earth," she replied warily.

"Okay, we're both from Earth. Well, now that we're getting to know each other better, let me tell you a little about myself. I like football, pizza, ferris wheels," he said moving closer to her as he talked.

"Chicago," the woman muttered looking down at the floor.

"Chicago…is a great place," he said slowly nodding his head. "All my favorite things are there … Bears football, even though they haven't won a superbowl since 1985, Geno's pizza, beer," he said naming things off like he was checking off a list. While he was talking he clipped the P-90 to his flack jacket and continued to move closer to her without her realizing it. "And the ferris wheel at Navy Pier is the one of the best in the world, but you probably already know all of that right? Are you from Chicago?"

John watched the woman carefully as he talked and the second she let her guard down he jumped her. Sheppard grabbed her wrist with his left hand and braced his right arm against her chest, knocking her back against the bulkhead. When she realized she was caught, she squirmed under his grasp and let out a yelp as he pinned her against the wall. Sheppard slammed her right hand against the bulkhead a couple of times causing her to release her hold on her weapon. He heard it clatter to the floor and he kicked it out of her reach with his foot.

"You didn't answer my question," John said still pinning her against the wall.

"What question?" she asked panting and still trying to squirm out from his grasp.

John pressed his knee against her thigh and put a little pressure on his right arm holding her body against the bulkhead. Mackenzie pushed against him in protest, but he had her pinned in place. He could feel her strength beneath him and had no doubt that if she wasn't injured she could kick his ass. "Are you from Chicago?" he questioned her slowly tilting his head.

"Agh! Are you serious?" she growled looking him in the eye.

"You started it by asking the question. It's only fair that you answer mine," he said holding her gaze. Their faces were just inches from each other and up close she was even more beautiful than she was at ten feet. It took all John's will not to lean over and kiss her.

"Yes. Well, no….not the city," Kirstin muttered as she stopped trying to break free and looked him in the eye. "I grew up in Lake Forest, just north of the city."

"Oh, the Bears training facility is there and Will Cartright," John replied matter of factly. He lowered his voice and held her gaze.

"Will Cartright?" Mackenzie questioned him furrowing her brow.

"Legendary player and coach of the Chicago Bulls," John said looking down at her. "You do know the Chicago Bulls, don't you?" he questioned her suddenly remembering Rodney's ramblings about the temporal difference. _Hope they still play basketball in her time-line. _

"I know basketball," she muttered and rolling her eyes.

John kept his guard up as he felt her body relax. He pulled her wrist toward her chest and changed arms holding her in place. "Well, now that we've been properly introduced Major Kirstin Mackenzie," he said pulling the 9 mm out of his holster. "Turn around, keep your hand on the bulkhead and spread your legs," he said flatly with no amusement in his voice.

He watched her twist her lips together in frustration and slump in her stance. She turned around slowly and did as he asked. Kirstin stood still and didn't try anything as he patted her down, finding the second stun grenade in her utility pant pocket. John shoved the grenade in his jacket pocket just as the radio cracked in his ear.

"Lorne to Colonel Sheppard, we're docking now."

"Good," Sheppard replied. "I need a security detail on the double to the upper deck aft section for one pleasant but well armed female."

"Yes sir," Lorne replied. "Sergeant Garcia should be there shortly."

"Lorne, there are three injured crewmen on the lower deck. One in crew quarters midway down the corridor from the airlock and two in Engineering at the end of the hall. On the upper deck there are two in the infirmary and …"

"Five on the bridge," Mackenzie said turning to look back at him over her right shoulder.

He glanced her way and repeated what she said through the radio. "Five on the bridge, my new best friend, Major Kirstin Mackenzie, with me in the corridor and Dr. McKay."

"McKay?" Lorne repeated with a sarcastic tone. "Let me guess … another papercut?" he laughed over the radio.

"He was a victim of Major Mackenzie's aggression," Sheppard replied over the mic.

"He'll wake up in a few minutes," Mackenzie mumbled turning around. "The effect is only temporary." She tried to move her left arm, winced and cried out cradling it with her right hand.

Sheppard watched as she sunk to the floor holding her arm. "You okay Major?" he asked her with concern in his voice. He pulled two ace bandages from his utility pocket and squatted down in front of her. "Let me brace that for you so it hurts less."

"No, the crew on the bridge needs more attention than me," she muttered waving her hand in front of her face trying to stop him.

"And they'll get it in a few minutes when the medics get up here," Sheppard replied slowly holstering his gun. "Relax Major. That's an order." His words caught her attention and she nodded gritting her teeth and gasping in pain as he gently moved her left arm and began to wrap the bandage around her body, trapping her upper arm against her chest.

"I apologize Colonel, I was…."

"Defending your position, I understand," he interrupted her. "If our places were reversed, I'da done the same thing…probably worse," he said as he finished with the chest wrap. He took the second ace wrap and quickly fashioned a sling out of it to support her forearm. He finished just as the security detail came down the hall. "There, all done," he said. "How's that feel?"

"Better," she said amazed at the efficiency in which he wrapped it. The pain from her shoulder actually was subsiding now that her arm was no longer dangling out of the socket.

"Something wrong?" he asked when he saw her eyeballing the wrap.

"No," Kirstin answered with a hint of suspicion in her voice. "I haven't seen anyone wrap a dislocated shoulder like this before."

Sheppard nodded and shrugged. "Field combat," he answered. "Sometimes you need to revert back to world war two basics."

Twenty minutes later all of Hero's crew with the exception of Major Mackenzie had been moved to the jumpers and were on their way to Atlantis for treatment. Colonel Sheppard, McKay, Zelenka, Major Lorne and Mackenzie stood on the bridge discussing how to get the ship back to Atlantis.

"Couldn't we bring another jumper up here and tow it back to base?" Lorne asked resting his hands on his hips.

"It won't work," McKay replied shaking his head. "This ship is four times the size of the jumpers. The grappling hooks won't hold."

"Well, then use more jumpers," Lorne offered plainly.

"It could work if we used four," Zelenka remarked.

"Sure it could work," Rodney said loudly. "But the jumpers would have to coordinate their movements exactly ….."

Major Mackenzie exhaled loudly as she sat at her station across the room. "Why don't you just fly it to the base," she interrupted growing tired of hearing McKay's voice.

"Do you know how to fly it?" McKay asked turning around to glare at the young woman.

"Not exactly," she replied. She was completely annoyed with him and wondered how the other three could possible put up with him on a day to day basis. She looked at the weapons locker in the aft section and fantasized about throwing a stun grenade between the four men just to shut him up.

"Well great, that's nice," McKay continued on without missing a beat. "Now, unless you have something to contribute that we could actually benefit from, I suggest you just sit over there and keep quiet!" Rodney snapped running his hand across his brow. "It's the least you can do since you're responsible for my pounding headache!" He paced around the bridge trying to figure out another way to move the ship.

"McKay," Sheppard growled under his breath. He felt like he was mediating a school yard fight between the two. "Major, I could help you pilot it back to our base if you're up to it." He walked closer to Mackenzie. "I'm a pilot and haven't found a ship I couldn't fly. Would you be up to trying?"

Mackenzie was quiet for a moment as she contemplated his request. She could re-route the power to get impulse engines back on line and even transfer helm control to her station, but the thought of actually flying Hero scared the crap out of her. Kirstin had experience flying class one pods like the ones on Enterprise and the Republic, but not a ship the size of Hero. "Maybe," she finally answered him. She looked Sheppard in the eye and shot her glance from Sheppard to McKay then back to Sheppard, telling him non-verbally that she had about enough of McKay and that he should leave before she felt the urge to beat him to a pulp, even one handed.

"Okay, that's a start," Sheppard replied nodding his head. He crossed his arms at his chest and turned back toward the other men. "Rodney, why don't you and Radac take the jumper to the gate and try to access the memory core."

"Now?" McKay blurted out. "Wouldn't my time be better spent trying to re-power the ship?"

"I think Major Mackenzie, Major Lorne and I can manage that on our own," he said firmly. "It's her ship and she's familiar with the wiring."

"And it's just as important for you to try to access the memory core in the gate," Lorne added catching Mackenzie's expression. "That way you can figure out how they got here and work on a method of recreating it so we can send them back."

"Oh, yeah, right," McKay replied suddenly feeling important again. "We'll need a pilot to man the jumper while Radac and I access the core."

"You can take Sergeant Garcia," Lorne said evenly. "He's already down in the jumper and the EVA suits are loaded."

"Okay, great, fine then," McKay remarked walking toward the door to the bridge. "If you need me…."

"We'll know where to find you," Mackenzie said flatly watching him walk out of the room. When she was sure he was gone she looked back at Sheppard and Lorne. "One more second of his voice and I was going to kill him."

"We know," both Sheppard and Lorne replied in unison.

* * *

"Too bad we can't land in the jumper bay," Major Lorne commented as he watched the sensor data on the small screen in front of him. After four hours of re-routing cable and charging the power systems, Hero was finally making its way back to Atlantis. Sheppard was actually the one in the re-routed pilot's seat. Lorne stood across the bridge from him at the tactical station monitoring the sensor data. Major Mackenzie was at the communications station doing …. something to help them, at least that's what she claimed she was doing.

"Naah, it's too long," Sheppard replied adjusting their heading. "It wouldn't fit through the roof hatch."

"What about the underwater bay?" Lorne asked. "The hatch is different and the bay is bigger."

"Well, that would be great if we knew it was sea-worthy," John remarked with a chuckle. "I'd hate to fly down there and then sink, because it's a long way to the bottom and I can't hold my breath forever."

"I can hear you, ya know," Kirstin smarted off from across the room.

"Oh, you're talking to us again?" Lorne asked with a sarcastic tone. "I thought you were just over there pouting." He looked over at her and started to chuckle.

"I wasn't pouting Major," Mackenzie replied her voice laced with contempt. "I was trying to get the view screen back on line!" She slammed her hand against the console in frustration.

"Careful what you hit over there," Lorne said wincing at her. "I wouldn't want to have to wrap another body part for you."

"I'll give you something to wrap," Kirstin started in on him until Sheppard cut her off.

"Hey kids, if you can't play nice, I'll have to separate you," Sheppard remarked, verbally trying to reel the majors in. "Since we're still in space, I don't' think either of you would like the accommodations."

It was at least the twentieth time they had gone at it since McKay and Zelenka had left the ship. It started innocently enough and then spiraled out of control after Kirstin tripped over a knee knocker and twisted her ankle. Although Sheppard and Lorne weren't anywhere near her when it happened, somehow Lorne was blamed for it and then bickered began.

Normally John would have had enough of it sooner rather than later, but in this case he suspected a ruse. Mackenzie was definitely up to something. The little fights she was picking with Lorne were only to cover her frustrations because whatever she was up to wasn't going exactly to plan. Mackenzie wasn't the only person on board that knew how to re-route power to get a ship to fly. Both Sheppard and Lorne were pilots after all and knew a thing or two about electrical and computer systems.

In fact it was one of the reasons Sheppard was flying Hero back to Atlantis instead of Mackenzie. Although she didn't put up much of a fight over it, Sheppard convinced Mackenzie to allow him to pilot the ship and unlock computer access at the tactical station for Lorne to "monitor" their course. Once Lorne had open access he was able to track her movements through Hero's systems while Sheppard flew the ship to the surface under his own guidance. Lorne wasn't very clean or stealthy with his spy techniques but considering Mackenzie's emotional state he didn't need to be, her latest outburst was all the confirmation they needed.

After Sheppard's stern warning, the two fell silent for several minutes until Kirstin broke the ice. "The answer to your question is yes," Mackenzie said glaring across the bridge.

"Yes what?" Lorne asked looking at her.

"Yes the ship is sea worthy," she replied speaking in a loud slow voice. "The species that built it for us was aquatic."

"Aquatic," Lorne commented sharing a glance with Sheppard that spoke volumes between them. "So we could take it down and stow it in the lower jumper bay."

"We could," Sheppard agreed. "But I think the east pier will suffice for now," he added. "Deploy landing struts," he directed to Mackenzie across the bridge.

"Struts deployed," she confirmed flipping the switch on her panel. She braced herself as the ship settled down on the landing gear and exhaled slowly, glad to finally be on the ground.

"All passengers please return your seatbacks to the upright position and stow your tray tables," Sheppard muttered wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "We have safely landed."

"That was…." Lorne began to say as Sheppard cut him off.

"Not fun," Sheppard finished the sentence. "Get the engines back on line and fix the damaged systems… then it would be fun, but until then…. Assign a security team to make sure _no one _decides to go sight seeing without my permission." He looked down at the covered corpse of Ensign Conroy and inclined his head to the right. "Get a detail up here to move the body to the morgue."

"Yes sir," Lorne replied stepping aside to call a team on the radio.

"Major Mackenzie, if you'll allow me the honors, I'll escort you to our infirmary," Sheppard said stepping across the bridge access door.

"I need to stop at my quarters first," Kirstin said biting her lip. "It's just down the hall, port side." She hopped across the bridge to where Sheppard was standing. "I need to speak to you," she said looking up at him. "Alone."

* * *

Sheppard quickly surveyed the room as he helped Major Mackenzie through the door. He was acutely aware of the weapons that were within her reach in the room. A rifle type device hung from a hook by her bed and a pistol was sitting conveniently on her desk.

"Big room," he muttered as watched her hobble around pulling clothing out of the locker beneath her bed. "Different from the ones on the lower deck."

"Officer quarters," she said looking up at him. "Not that it matters much on this mission since there are twelve of us. Only Bowyer and Schmidt had to double up."

"So you wanted to talk to me?" John asked her cutting to the chase.

"I need a favor," she said turning to look at him. She bit her lip out of habit.

"Okay," John mumbled not knowing what to expect.

"I ah….I need to use the restroom," she blurted out. "One piece… I need you to help me," she said pointing at the wrap and her jumpsuit.

"Yah…." John chuckled nervously. _That wasn't quite what I was expecting, _he thought looking anywhere in the room but directly at her. "Are you sure you don't want to wait until you get to the infirmary?"

"I can't hold it any longer, Colonel" she smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Sheppard exhaled slowly and walked toward her. "If I'm going to be helping you undress, you better start calling me John," he said as he started to unwind the ace bandage, making quick work of unwrapping her arm and shoulder.

"Hold the sleeve and I'll pull my arm out," Mackenzie said motioning at her left arm.

"Absolutely not!" John guffawed shaking his head. "You know how much that is going to hurt? I'll cut it off," he said pulling a knife from his belt.

"No Ca… John. It will only hurt a second," Kirstin argued unzipping the jumpsuit to her waist.

"If you were in the infirmary your uniform would be cut off and you wouldn't have any say about it," he replied evenly.

"I'm not in the infirmary am I? Come on, the quicker you do it, the quicker it will be over," she said. With a little effort, she wiggled her right arm out of the sleeve of both her jumpsuit and t-shirt. She looked at Sheppard impatiently.

"I'm cutting your sleeve, Major. The decision is final," Sheppard replied firmly.

"What happened to _call me John if I'm going to undress you_?" Kirsten asked him with pursed lips.

"That was before you started acting irrational."

"I don't have to take orders from you, you're not in my chain of command Colonel."

"It doesn't matter what branch of the military I'm in, the last time I checked a Lieutenant Colonel outranked a Major," John replied tersely leaning over her.

"Forget it, I'll do it myself!" she yelled half walking half hopping into the latrine. She slammed the door shut behind her. After a couple of seconds Sheppard could hear her whimper and cry out in pain. "John?" she called sliding the door open.

"I take it you're ready to do it my way?" he said arching his brow at the door.

Sheppard walked into the latrine and slid his knife up the length of her sleeve slicing the fabric open. As the top of the jumpsuit fell to the floor, he grabbed the towel off the shelf and handed it to her to cover herself. Then he finished his task by cutting off her t-shirt and sports bra and helped to remove them from her body. "Anything else you need?" he asked her as his eyes trailed over her muscular back.

"You do realize you're going to have to help me get dressed," she muttered looking over her right shoulder at him.

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to that," he replied sheepishly as he backed out of the small room. "I'll just ah … wait out here."

Major Mackenzie hobbled out of the latrine a moment later holding the bath towel against her chest and wearing only her standard issue blue skivvies. She found him sitting at her desk scrolling through an active computer screen.

"That was quick," he said looking over at her. He made no attempt to conceal the data he was perusing

"Not a lot to do in there," she mumbled. She glanced at the computer monitor to see what he was looking at. "I know about the temporal displacement Colonel."

John turned in the seat and rested his forearms on his thighs. "What'd'ya mean?"

"I picked it up on scanners during our flight through the nebula and it came up again right before I detected intruders … you and McKay on board. I checked our database. The last time a P-90 was used in a military operation was a hundred years ago," she replied ruefully. She hopped over to her bunk and sat down, still holding the towel to her chest. "I've reviewed the telemetry of the event that brought us here. There's no way to go back….it can't be recreated," she mumbled. "We're stuck here."

"I think it's a little premature to be making those assumptions Major," Sheppard said to her. "It's not my area of expertise," he continued when she cut him off.

"But it is mine! I can show you the telemetry. We passed through some anomaly and a bunch of worm holes and then we were hit by another ship and then …." The stress of the day finally got to her as tears began to run down her face. She stood from the bed, covering her face with her hand embarrassed to let a commanding officer see her cry. What she hadn't planned on was dropping the towel and exposing her breasts to Colonel Sheppard.

Always the gentleman, John quickly turned away from her, affording her the privacy she needed to retrieve her cover. "We're going to figure this out Major," he said calmly as he looked out the window at the city. "I already have my best people working on it."

"That dork McKay?"

John laughed and turned around tentatively making sure she had covered her chest again. "Yes. He's a little … annoying at times. But he has a PhD and he's darn good at figuring things out," he said making small talk with her in an attempt to change her mood.

"A PhD?" she retorted picking a sports bra up off the bed. "Big Whoop, so do I."

"You have a PhD?"

"In Mathematics and Physics."

"And you're in the Marines leading a strike team?"

"Specifically covert ops to retrieve POWs and other high-value targets," she smirked and shrugged her shoulder. "I used to teach eight year olds to embrace math and science."

"That's one hell of a career change," Sheppard replied amazed at her revelation. _Beautiful and smart! A deadly combination, _he thought gazing at her. He watched as she shook her head and a ripple of emotion cascaded over her face.

"I joined the reserves to reconnect with people my own age and then seven years ago Earth….in my time line was attacked by a ruthless enemy and I lost people I cared about. So I went active to feel like I was doing something about it."

"Did it work?" he asked walking slowly toward the bed.

"More or less," she muttered feeling another tear run down her face. John caught it with his thumb before she could drop the towel again. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Crying is a sign of weakness."

"They still teach that crap in the Marines?" John said with a smile. His hand remained cupped against the side of her face. "Crying just means you can feel and we all need feelings to survive. Good or bad." He held her gaze for a moment and then slowly there became an awkward silence between them. He let go of her face and took a step back. "Do you have a t-shirt that you don't care about?"

"What do you mean?" she asked him perplexed by his request.

"Well, when I get you to the infirmary, they're probably going to cut off any top you are wearing, so I was thinking that it would probably be best if you were wearing something you didn't really care about."

"Sure," she muttered pointing at the locker underneath her bunk. "I have a Bears t-shirt in there that will work."

"You're going to deface the Bears by having them cut off your body," John replied shaking his head pulling the t-shirt from the pile.

"Why not? They suck anyway," she said with an evil chuckle.

She turned her back to him and as he pulled the shirt over her head, she shimmied into the shirt with her right arm. Mackenzie sat on the bed while Sheppard rewrapped her arm and then helped her into her uniform camo pants. "You know, I looked you up in our data base," she said as she watched him tie her boots. "There was a Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard in my time line."

"Oh yeah?" Sheppard said not really wanting to know what happened to his counterpart.

"Yeah, in twenty oh seven," she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "He retired from the Air Force as a General twenty years later."

"Well, it's good to know that someone will think highly of me in my career pursuits," Sheppard remarked watching her face.

"The twenty oh seven Earth in my universe couldn't figure out how to fly the space shuttle farther than the moon. They were sending unmanned probes to Mars and had declassified Pluto as a planet. And everybody drove gas guzzling cars."

"Well, some things haven't changed," Sheppard said helping Mackenzie to stand up. "We are still driving gas guzzling cars but we're a little more advanced in the space travel department. You ready?"

"How far do we have to walk?" she asked him before they left her room.

"It's going to be a hike," he said flatly.

She bit her lip and stared out the window of the ship. "I kinda have another stop to make."

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

More disclaimers: I don't own anything SGA or STARTREK related. (I don't even the car I drive).

A/N: Ed, my roommate proofread this chapter, but yesterday I caught him spelling tranquil wrong on some paper he was writing for his graduate class, so needless to say, it scared the heck out of me. On that note, I'm not responsible for anything spell check didn't catch. (which reminds me … why can't spell check be smarter?)

Reviews are welcome, but don't worry, I'll update it either way.

Chapter 3

"Mac, you awake?"

Kirstin groaned and opened her eyes slowly. She turned her head to the voice calling her from sleep. "Yeah, but you should be in bed Lieutenant," she said slowly to the huge form of Lieutenant Chip Bowyer standing next to her bed. Like she, he was dressed in white scrubs. His left arm was encased in plaster and hanging in a sling. "You have a concussion."

He smirked. "Yeah, I have concussion like I have an extra hole in my head." He chuckled softly. "You know damn well if we were back on the Republic and I walked into sickbay right now, Doc Travier would diagnose a headache and send me on my way."

"Vulcans," she muttered with a smile. She fussed with the sheet and blanket covering her body trying to get comfortable.

"Vulcan medicine does have its advantages," he replied. "No hypochondriacs."

"No bedside manner," she retorted. "He reminds me of a police interrogation. _Stick to the facts ma'm," _she chuckled. "What's up with your arm?"

Chip laughed sheepishly as he looked down at it. "Well, I sleep on the top bunk. So when whatever happened to the ship, I fell out."

"Attacked by the Romulans," she informed him. She ran her hand through her red hair and pulled it from her neck.

"Serious? No way?"

"Three ships, a warbird and two scouts," she said closing her eyes as a flashback played through her mind. "We took heavy fire, lost the starboard nacelle. Mayweather was able to get us into a nebula." She looked over at Bowyer with sad eyes.

"I helped Dr. Keller treat Commander T'Pol. She's stable. I didn't ask but I'm sure you know … did we lose anyone?" he asked tentatively, understanding by the look in her eye that they had. He ran his hand down her right arm to comfort her.

"Ensign Conroy and umm Commander Reed." Tears escaped her eyes before she could do anything to stop them. "I ah…I triaged them on the bridge," she mumbled. "Conroy died instantly. Malcolm….he didn't have a chance."

Bowyer was quiet for a moment, closing his eyes to process the information. He didn't know Conroy at all as the guy was Starfleet and wasn't exactly friendly. When he wasn't on duty, young ensign Conroy spent most of his time in his quarters. Reed was another story. Officially their team was assigned to the NX-10 Republic as part of the security detail. Unofficially they reported to Commander Reed running covert missions for Starfleet Security and "_The Agency_".

Bowyer always found Reed to be the atypical Starfleet officer. Reed was a protocol enthusiasts and weapons fanatic. Everyone on the team thought he would have made a great Marine. Reed was a control freak and planned their missions down to the nanosecond. He had contingency plans in place for everything and ran through every possible outcome. The five members of the strike team and Reed had a great working relationship and because of that had a reputation with the brass for clean and successful missions. Reed's death was going to be a great loss to everybody.

More than that, Chip knew that Reed was like a brother to Kirstin. She had lost her family in the Xindi attack on Earth and while she served on Enterprise, she and Reed had developed a friendship. They were so much alike and bickered all the time that Bowyer often wondered why they weren't married. Reed's death was going to be hard on her, and though she would try to hide it from the team, she couldn't hide it from him.

He picked her hand up and squeezed it reassuringly. "Kirstin," he whispered. "I know he was like a brother to you."

"I'm okay with it Chip, it's the reality of our job," she muttered pulling her hand from his grasp. She sniffled and wiped her nose with a tissue.

"You don't buy into that fifty-fifty propaganda _the agency _sells, do you?" Bowyer asked.

"You mean the chances of us making it back? The accepted causality rate on any mission is twenty percent, even the Marine Corps tells us that." She pursed her lips and tried not to think about the grim reality the rest of the team was going to face in the morning. _It doesn't matter that Malcolm is dead, we're all dead now that we can't go home, _she surmised in her head. She shrugged her shoulders. "Malcolm died the way he fantasized about …. in a blaze of glory. He told me once he wanted to go out fighting, not lying in a bed," she said quietly.

Bowyer ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek and nodded. It was useless to try to comfort her now, her walls were already up. "Where are we anyway?" he asked changing the subject.

"An Earth outpost," she replied flatly. She sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling.

"Yeah, thanks for clearing that up. The humans around here were sending me confusing signals," he replied sarcastically rolling his eyes. "Where is this earth outpost exactly?

Mac never had the chance to explain it. A loud crash thundered through the infirmary a second later. The sounds of medical equipment being shoved about and the metallic ring of tray tables and an IV stand hitting the floor reverberated in their ears all just feet from Mackenzie's bed. Loud voices echoed in the room as shouts and muffled screams from the personnel carried down the hall.

Mackenzie and Bowyer looked at each other in bewilderment as they listened to a frantic page over the intercom and zeroed in the voices in the room.

"Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Keller report to the infirmary immediately!"

"It's alright sir, you're in a hospital!"

"Get away from me! Don't come any closer!"

"Stand down Commander!"

"Commander?" Mackenzie muttered shoving the covers aside, "It's Trip!" she said jumping out the bed. She hobbled to the door of the wing where the commotion was coming from. Lieutenant Bowyer followed right on her tail.

Major Mackenzie stepped into the doorway and surveyed the area quickly. The wing contained eight beds, six of which were occupied by the most critically injured from Hero: Commander Mayweather, Lieutenant Alvarez, Ensign Yi, Commander T'Pol, Sergeant Kavan and Commander Tucker. Two medical technicians were picking themselves off the floor and appeared slightly disheveled. Three armed guards had their weapons leveled on Commander Tucker who was cowered in a defensive position between one of the empty hospital beds and the wall. He appeared to have some type of weapon in his hand.

"Stand down Commander!" one of the guards ordered. "We don't want to hurt you!"

"Don't come any closer!" Trip said looking nervously at the men in front of him.

"Wait!" Mackenzie yelled out in an authoritative voice when she anticipated the guard closest to Tucker was ready to stun him. "Let me handle this. He's in my command!" she said firmly walking into the center of the room. She put her hand on the weapon of the guard that was ready to shoot and pushed it down. "Stand down Corporal!" she ordered.

The guard was about to argue with her when he caught sight of Colonel Sheppard entering the room. "Yes, ma'm," the guard muttered stepping back as Sheppard ordered him off with a tilt of his head.

"Commander Tucker," Mackenzie said stepping into his line of sight. "It's Major Mackenzie." She stared at him and noticed the fogged expression on his face. _Duh, that's not his cover name, _Mackenzie scolded herself. "Trip, it's Mac," she said lowering her voice. "Trip, look at me!" Mackenzie said walking toward him. "Do you recognize me? It's Kirstin. Trip?"

Tucker focused in on her voice and blinked his eyes several times. "Corporal? The Romulans are coming," he mumbled darting his eyes around the room. He stepped back into a corner and knelt on the floor.

"No Commander," she said following him and squatting down on his level. "You're not at the prison, we're at an outpost. A human outpost and we're safe. Malcolm and the strike team rescued you from your cell," she smiled warmly at him and used key words to trigger his memories. "Captain Archer sent in the _big guns_ to get you. These people are helping us. We're safe. "

Tucker gritted his teeth and looked at Mackenzie. He glanced over her shoulder to Bowyer who was standing about three feet behind her and then around the room at the medical technicians and the handful of guards holding a defensive perimeter. "The Romulans attacked," he said looking at Mackenzie in confusion.

"They did. A warbird and two scout ships intercepted us when we were leaving the sector," she said holding eye contact with him. She kept her right hand in front of her, palm up in a non-aggressive manner. "Guess they weren't ready to let you go. Travis and T'Pol held them off and I got us to safety." She watched Tucker carefully as the confusion started to melt away in his eyes and his memory began to trigger. There was silence between the two for several minutes. "Commander, do you remember?" she asked Tucker again drawing him back.

"You're not a corporal anymore are you?" he said turning his gaze toward Mackenzie.

"No sir," she replied with a smile on her face. "We went over this earlier … after the strike team rescued you from the prison remember? Captain Archer sent me to OCS after you…ummm left." Kirstin shrugged her shoulders as she tried to remind him of his history. She kept using words that meant something to him, Archer, Big Guns, Romulans, T'Pol, Mayweather, prison. When she noticed his gaze start to focus she started to feel a little better.

"You flew the ship?" Tucker questioned tilting his head.

"Yeah, well I had some help," she replied sheepishly.

"Oh brother! I'm sure I'll have a stack of paperwork to fill out explaining in detail the whats and why of anything that you ran into" he asked his eyes twinkling at his joke.

Kirstin twisted her lips to the side as she tried to decide whether she should hug him or slug him at that minute. She decided the violence wasn't the best course of action at this minute. _It wouldn't be a fair fight after all…the Commander is critically injured, _she thought quickly. She shook her head in relief that Trip was remembering his life. "You trying to play doctor with that?" she asked pointing at the scalpel in his hand.

Tucker looked down at it and sighed. "Ahhh. I dunno," he muttered handing it to her. "You okay?" he asked pointing at the sling on her arm.

"Oh, this?" she said motioning at the sling. Without looking she handed the scalpel backwards to the person that that was standing behind her. "Don't say anything, but I'm using it for sympathy votes. There are a lot of good looking guys here," she winked at him.

"Kirstin, you of all people don't need any help attracting men," he remarked. He looked up over at Bowyer and noticed all three of them were wearing the same white hospital scrubs. Bowyer's left arm was also in a sling. "Where are we?"

"An outpost, set up after the war," she mumbled quickly telling him her first lie.

What's up with the guards?"

"Marines," she commented looking back over her shoulder. Mackenzie noticed they had finally lowered their weapons and stepped back a couple more feet. She made eye contact with Sheppard who was standing behind her and watched as he nodded approvingly.

"Starfleet is letting Marines guard space outposts? Oh Lord," Tucker chuckled. "What next? Commanding ships?"

"Hey! Mind your manners Commander," she scolded him with a smirk on her face. "I could have just let them stun you," she added with a wink.

Tucker scanned the room, still wary of the eyes on him. "Everyone else okay?" Trip asked. .

"Let's get you back in bed," Kirstin said avoiding the question. She stepped to his left side and slipped her hand under his arm. "Being a spy must have given you super-human powers considering you could barely move when we found you."

"Drugs…make you do crazy things," Trip muttered as he struggled to stand. With help from Colonel Sheppard, Lieutenant Bowyer and one of the med techs, they helped the Commander stand up and then walked him back to the bed and assisted him getting in.

She caught Trip eyeballing Sheppard and cleared her throat. "Commander, this is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," she said inclining her head in his direction. "He's the Commander of this base."

"Commander Chaws… ah Logan Doyle the Third," Trip stammered as he got settled in the bed. He extended his hand to the Colonel. "Sorry bout," Trip began to apologize for his behavior.

"No need Commander," Sheppard said waving him off. "Major Mackenzie has updated me on your status. Under the circumstances it's understandable." Sheppard paused awkwardly and looked around the room. "Well, now that the excitement is over, you all need to get some rest," Sheppard said looking at all three officers. "I'll stop in to see you in the morning."

"Kirstin wait," Tucker called to Mackenzie before she could step away from his side.

Kirstin stopped moving and looked over at John and Lieutenant Bowyer as they walked away. They both knew what he was about to ask and were ready to lend support to her if she needed it. Bowyer walked back to the end of the bed and Sheppard stayed where he was just a few steps from the door.

"You didn't answer my question Major," Tucker said acutely aware of the other officer's movements. He knew the answer before she answered. .

Kirstin bit her lip and ran her hand nervously across his bed rail. She was dreading this moment from the minute Keller had told her that Reed was dead. Malcolm wasn't only like a brother to her … he was Trip's closest friend. Mackenzie wasn't even sure she could find the words.

"We lost two," Bowyer reported from behind her. "On the bridge, during the attack, the consoles in front of them exploded. Ensign Conroy and…"

"Malcolm," Kirstin finally croaked out, her throat as dry as a dirt floor. She felt her breaths become labored and her body begin to tremble. Mackenzie took a deep breath to try to calm herself. Amazingly she didn't feel tears in her eyes. She looked over at the Dr. Keller standing near the door to the room and saw Bowyer walk away leaving her alone with Tucker.

She looked into his eyes and found him searching for answers. "He promised Archer if it was the last thing he did …he would find you and make you safe," she said quietly. "Guess he was true to his word," she added swallowing hard and looking anywhere but Tucker's eyes.

"T'Pol and Mayweather?" Tucker asked quietly trying to process the information.

"They're stable," Mackenzie said turning to look over at the other beds in the wing. "And everyone else is okay, nothing more serious that a few bumps and bruises."

Trip nodded and swallowed hard. He looked over at Mackenzie and saw the exhaustion on her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked when he noticed her trembling.

"I'm fine," she said, rubbing her left arm absent-mindly.

"Kirstin, it's me you're talking to," he reminded her. "You can put down your tough shield."

"Yeah, well, you're in a lot worse shape than I am," she chuckled quietly. "It's just been a long day," she muttered avoiding eye contact with him.

"You need to hit the rack then," he said pulling the blanket around his body. "We all could use some sleep."

"Maybe I'll go for a walk," Mackenzie muttered not wanting to be alone at that moment. "I'm not that tired right now."

"That wasn't a request Mac," Trip said looking over at her. "That's an order."

She looked over at him quickly and said nothing for a minute. "You can't give me an order Trip," she said finally. "You were the parcel. I'm in command of the team."

"The last time I checked a Commander out ranked a Major," Trip reminded her firmly. "I'm the senior officer and it doesn't matter if I'm the parcel or not." Trip nodded at her. "_Go to bed_."

Mackenzie felt her temper flare and was ready to really get into it with Tucker for no other reason than to deal with the emotions that boiled just under her skin. Yelling was a kind of therapy for her in times like this. She was about to step back and gather her gusto when she felt the heat of another's body behind her. Whoever was there was gutsy enough to stand inside her personal bubble and besides Bowyer, there wasn't many who dared to be that bold. Just as she turned to confront whomever, she recognized the cologne.

"Colonel Sheppard," she muttered when she realized he was towering over her.

"So it's not just me that you argue with," Sheppard said to her as he put his hand on her waist and ushered her away from Tucker's bed. "You really need to listen to your commanding officer Major," he said. "You need to go to bed and let the Commander get his rest."

* * *

Trip watched the man, introduced as Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, usher Mackenzie from the room. It was odd that she let a stranger get that close to her. She rarely let anyone evade her personal space, not him or even Malcolm and they had known her for years. It wasn't the only thing he thought was strange. Most every thing about this place was making him uneasy. It wasn't a modern hospital facility in any sense of the word. The beds, the instruments, even the dang IV stand reminded him of something he saw on a movie from 1999. The medical personnel looked normal enough and answered nearly every question he had, with the exception of the location of the base. The guards around his door and the efficiency of their response during his meltdown a moment ago bothered him as well.

Trip took a deep breath and closed his eyes trying to relax. In retrospect, it wasn't really all that odd that there was a security detail at the door. An alien visitor to Enterprise would have an armed escort and as for the medical equipment, he did see a medical technician with a scanner in her hand. He hardly could complain about the facility, the creatures in Phlox's sick bay would make anyone wonder. The man used leeches and eels to treat injuries after all. _I'm just being paranoid, _Trip thought as he reflected on what had just occurred. There were valid explanations for everything he was worried about, with the exception of how close Kirstin allowed Colonel Sheppard get to her.

Tucker let a flashback of that moment rewind in his mind. Sheppard had a look of concern in his eye when he walked to Kirstin's side. He touched her with a fondness that a lover or a suitor would. _I know that touch, _Tucker reaffirmed to himself. _I've touched women that way … Lennae, T'Pol. _In the all the time he'd known Kirstin, she never let anyone in to get that close. A friend might get away with touching her arm or patting her on the shoulder, but anything between her elbow and her knee was off limits.

Trip chuckled to himself remembering incident that had occurred on Enterprise during the Xindi mission. He and Archer, T'Pol, Corporal Hawkins, Corporal Reyes and Kirstin were all smashed into a shuttle pod and were headed to some outpost to do…something. Hawkins had accidentally brushed against Kirstin in her "no touch zone". She freaked and put Hawkins in a head lock on the floor. Archer wasn't amused and dryly told if they couldn't play nice he would make them ride on the bumper.

Tucker was pulled from the memory when the lights dimmed in his room. He turned his head and watched the med tech walk out the door. He scanned the room and noticed the others asleep or unconscious in their beds. He was alone to his thoughts for a moment. _Malcolm didn't make it. _The words echoed in his head and reminded him of the day Reed had told him that Archer was killed while disabling the Xindi weapon. _The Cap'n didn't make it, _he had said. The words crushed him like an anvil falling out of the sky. The man who had always seemed invincible to him was dead and Enterprise's crew had to re-group and pull it together without him. Then to everyone's surprise, Archer came back to him, but Tucker knew all to well that it wouldn't happen this time.

The acceptable causality rate on any given mission was twenty percent. Including himself, there were twelve crew members on Hero. He suspected eight people were deployed with the strike team to bust him out of jail. T'Pol was with Raver and one or two people stayed on the ship to activate the transporters. _No, Bowyer said they were killed during the attack. The consoles exploded, _he thought as he pictured it in his mind. _Malcolm never had a chance. Hmmp I bet. I can just imagine the chances Mr. Big Guns was taking before his untimely demise. _

Considering Reed was a nut for regulations and protocol, he took chances. A lot. And not necessarily smart ones, if there was such a thing. The first year on Enterprise, the two had butted heads often. Tucker hadn't liked the man at first, but slowly he warmed up to him. Most of their relationship was solidified during their ten days in space in shuttlepod one. Malcolm had made the introduction for Trip to become linked with _The Agency_. During the Border Wars they had worked a few missions together and Malcolm had saved Trip's ass once or twice. There was always a certain amount of boasting and ribbing that went on between the two and this time was no exception. In the end, Malcolm would always warn him that it was the last time he would bail him out, Trip was sure he never realized his threat would finally come true.

* * *

"Are you always argumentative?" Sheppard asked Mackenzie once they had cleared the isolation wing where the critical patients were housed. He could sense she was agitated and was unsure about the cause. It wasn't like today was an ordinary day for her. They rescued their comrade, took enemy fire, got sucked into a worm hole, entered an alternate universe, traveled back in time a hundred and fifty some years and lost two of her crew. That was enough to make anyone's head spin, but John suspected her head was doing a lot more than spinning. She didn't look well. Her face was flushed and her breathing was labored.

"I need another favor," she said flatly. She stopped walking and leaned against an empty bed that was several feet from hers.

Sheppard rolled his eyes and turned to face her. "Now what?" he asked resting his hands on his hips.

"I need to get something off the ship."

Sheppard was silent a moment trying to decide how to play it. Talking her out of going to the ship wasn't going to be easy. "Kirstin, a lot has happened to you and your crew today. You're medicated. You need to be in bed resting."

"I have rested all evening and I'll sleep when we get back. I just need to go to the ship, just for a minute," she argued with him feeling her face flush as she defended her position.

"I'll take you to your ship tomorrow," John tried to counter.

Mackenzie shook her head. "No, I need to go tonight," she replied her voice getting louder.

'That's not going to happen Major," the Colonel said firmly drawing himself up in an more authoritative posture.

"Am I a prisoner here?" Mackenzie snapped at him. She could feel her face burning as her frustration boiled.

"No."

"Then I don't need your permission to go to my ship," she remarked crisply.

"Your ship is being guarded by my men. They are under my orders to not allow anyone access without my permission and they are not going to get it tonight," he said tersely

"You think I'm concerned about your chintzy security detail Colonel? I command a strike team that has successfully infiltrated prisons! Getting on my ship without being detected will be a walk in the park!" she yelled at him a little louder than she had intended.

Their voices echoed through the Infirmary. Dr. Keller stepped out of the shadows and glared at Sheppard. John grabbed Mackenzie by the arm and pulled her out of the Infirmary and down the hall. He was astonished that she didn't resist. Once they were clear of the ears in the room, he spun her around and was surprised to find her holding a small flat device in her left hand.

"What the…?"

He never had time to finish the sentence. Major Mackenzie flipped the device opened and grabbed his arm with her right hand. "Hero, two to transport," she said firmly. She looked up at Sheppard and in a second the two were standing on the transporter pad on Hero just down the corridor from sickbay.

Sheppard glanced at his surroundings and then looked over at her. "I guess the answer is yes."

"Yes what?" she said stepping off the pad and headed down the corridor.

"Yes, you _are_ always argumentative," John replied following her.

Mackenzie stopped walking and put her hand against the bulkhead. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach and light-headed. Yelling at him just a minute ago felt great but now she cursed under her breath at her weakness. It had nothing to do with her injuries. She got this way after all their ops and sometimes when things weren't going her way….queasy, difficulty breathing, nervousness, and feeling like she was going to pass out. Phlox had diagnosed her with post trauma stress disorder, but Travier had contributed it to panic attacks. Both doctors had prescribed some medication to curb her symptoms and had suggested her to seek consoling to get to the root cause. Mackenzie already knew the reason and no amount of talking was going to make it better.

Sheppard watched her carefully and knew immediately that something was wrong. The way she was acting reminded him vaguely of McKay when he was having a claustrophobic attack. Her whole body was trembling and her breathing seemed more labored. The facial flushing that colored her features just seconds ago drained from her face in front of him. He reached out to her just as she slumped against the wall. "Kirstin? Whoa!" he said grabbing her arm and putting his hand around her back.

"I'm okay," she mumbled putting her palm on his chest. She took a second to steady herself. "I'm just a little lightheaded."

"Exactly the reason why you should be lying in your bed in the Infirmary," John reminded her.

"No, the transporter makes me feel that way," she replied looking anywhere but at his face for fear he would know she was lying. "It happens all the time, it's like motion sickness. Sick-bay is just down the hall, I can get something to make it go away." When she was sure she had her bearings, she pulled from his grasp and walked toward the sickbay door.

Sheppard didn't believe her for a minute but realized it was fruitless to argue with her. He followed her down the corridor and through the door into the medical bay. He watched her open a storage cabinet and retrieve a medical scanner. She handed it to him and climbed up on a bed.

"Scan me."

"Wha?" John mumbled staring at the device.

Kirstin waved at the tricorder. "Just point it at me and hit this button," she said pointing to the scan button.

"I'm not a medic," he started to argue with her. It wasn't true, he was trained to do the basics and in some instances a little more than the basics, but that wasn't his point. She had no business being out on this ship tonight.

"You don't have to be," she said waving at the scanner. "It's going to tell you what to do. Trust me."

"Trust you? You abducted me!"

"I hardly abducted you," she replied rolling her eyes. "Okay, technically I brought you here against your will, but you can leave anytime." She pulled her hair off her neck and fanned herself with her hand.

"That was your whole plan wasn't it?" He spied the device she used to call the transporter lying on the bed and grabbed it quickly before she had a chance to get it. _Looks like a cell phone, _he noted before looking back to her. "Anything else this lil thing does that I should know about ….there isn't going to be a robot emerging form the wall to kick the crap out of me?"

"No," she answered, her breathing still labored. "It's no different than the radio devices you use to communicate with your team," she replied waving at his ear. "Every member of the crew is assigned one. We can talk to each on it and remote activate the transporter system on the ship … as long as we're within a seven mile perimeter."

"So I could just talk into this and send us back to the Infirmary?" he questioned raising his eyebrow at her.

"Yes, and after we're done in here you can, alright?"

Sheppard pocketed the communicator and looked at the tricorder with a perplexed expression on his face. He did as instructed and watched the small screen as her results popped up on the display. The scanner not only told him her current condition, but scanned her sub-dermal transponder and brought up any of her relevant medical history. _History of panic attacks, _Sheppard read from the screen. _Well that explains a thing or two…the sudden mood swing in the Infirmary, her argumentative nature. _

"You don't have motion sickness," he said looking up at her. "You're having a panic attack. According to this, it isn't the first time," he commented looking up at her.

Kirstin bit her lip and mouthed words soundlessly before she finally found her voice. "I've had them for years," she answered. "It's controlled with medication," she added looking at the floor. She could feel his eyes boring into her. "What does it say to do?" she said looking up at him.

"One shot of some medication called …." he turned the device so she could see it.

"On the counter," she said pointing across the room to a bank of medication vials attached to the wall. "Point the tricorder at the barcodes and it will tell you which one to use, then fill an ampoule and put it in a hypospray."

John sighed and walked across the room. He scanned the medications and followed the on screen instructions to get the ampoule ready. The tricorder even told him where to find an empty device to administer the medication and how to load and use it. _Impressive,_ he thought walking back over to Mackenzie. _It's like the old Polaroid cameras. Point, scan and treat. _He stared at the hypospray in his hand and looked up at her. "I just press this against your neck?" he asked not understanding how the medication got into her system.

"It shoots the medication right into the vein," Mackenzie said pointing to the area of her neck where he needed to put the device.

"Okay," he remarked slowly as he put the hypo against her skin and pressed. He heard the hiss of the medication as it expelled into her body and pulled the device back. "Are you okay?"

Mackenzie closed her eyes and took a breath as the medication immediately went to work to calm her frazzled nerves. "Yeah," she said inhaling sharply. She took a couple of breaths. "Thanks."

John scanned her again and nodded when the tricorder indicated her condition had improved. "You ready to go back now?" he asked shoving the tricorder in his pant pocket.

"Are you in the mood for some ice cream?" she asked him with a devious grin on her face.

* * *

"Commander Topole?"

"T'Pol."

"TaPaul. Hi, I'm Doctor Keller," the young blonde woman said. She smiled warmly at the alien woman and tried to be as non-threatening as possible. "You're safe. You're on a human outpost. You and the rest of your crew are all being treated here by my staff."

T'Pol inhaled as a sharp pain jabbed her at her side. She looked around the room for a familiar face as she tried to calm herself internally. "Trip?" she muttered as she looked over at the cart of medical monitors next to her bed. The screens were in English and the data indicated that she wasn't going to die.

"You mean Commander Doyle?" Dr. Keller asked putting her hand on T'Pol's arm reassuringly. "He's fine. He woke up a few hours ago. He's got some healing to do, but he's going to be okay. He was asking about you."

"He's a colleague," T'Pol remarked quietly remembering Trip's cover name from the mission briefing.

"Really? I kind of got the impression from him that your relationship was more than just co-workers," the doctor said scanning T'Pol with the tricorder.

T'Pol watched her warily, concerned with the expression on the doctor's face. "The commander and I have worked together for many years," she remarked.

Dr. Keller caught the questioning glare of her patient. "Well, let me give you a status report on your condition," she said setting the tricorder down and picking up T'Pol's chart. "You came in with internal bleeding and we had to operate to control it. I had to give you a transfusion. We used your blood type that was in stasis on your ship. Your baby is stable," Keller said handing the tricorder to T'Pol to see for herself. "The fetal monitor is just a precaution," she added pointing back toward the machine.

"He wasn't injured?" T'Pol muttered as she scrolled through the tricorder readings.

"He was in distress right after your surgery but Lieutenant Bowyer from your ship was able to stabilize him with medication," Keller replied. "He's very knowledgeable about your species. He was a big help," Jen added nodding her head.

"He studied medicine on my planet for many months," T'Pol replied and noticed the odd expression on the doctor's face after she said it. "And the rest of the crew, how are they?"

"Most received minor injuries and will be released tomorrow morning. Commander Doyle will be here several days recovering from his injuries. Ensign Yi is critically injured and is in medically induced coma," Keller said turning to hang T'Pol's chart on the side of the medical cart.

"Commander Reed?" T'Pol asked carefully. She knew the answer before the Doctor verbalized it.

"He didn't make it," Keller replied and touched T'Pol's arm again. "I'm sorry. He and another from your crew, Ensign Conroy were killed during an explosion."

T'Pol nodded and turned her head to look at the ceiling. "Thank you doctor," T'Pol replied. "I would like some time alone," she remarked quietly.

"Sure," Keller replied. "If you need anything, push the call button for the medical technician," she added as she quietly pulled the curtain around her bed.

T'Pol closed her eyes and ran her hand over her swollen belly. He was safe, they were safe. She, Trip and Jonathan's child. It was selfish of her to think that way, but at that moment that was all that mattered. She would mourn the loss of Malcolm Reed, but be forever grateful that he brought them back together.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard stood in front of the plasma monitor and watched the telemetry of Hero's plight, the fire-fight with the alien vessels, the escape route into the nebula and eventually through the wormhole or more accurately, wormholes that landed the ship in the Pegasus Galaxy.

It had been four days since Hero and its crew had been stranded. The IOA was hugely apprehensive about their abrupt appearance, from seemingly nowhere but McKay and Zelenka had been able to minimize most of it with the scientific data proving the ship and crew were from an alternate universe. The hoops the IOA was requiring the crew to jump through to be allowed passage to Earth or even to be grandfathered into the Atlantis expedition was over-kill as far as John was concerned. But he hadn't heard one complaint from any of the Hero's people. Apparently the twenty second century military was filled with as much bureaucratic red tape as the military of today.

As for Hero's crew, only Doyle and Yi remained in the Infirmary recovering from their injuries. The others were assigned studios in the East Pier and were free to roam about the city. The ship had been moved to the underwater jumper bay for security reasons. Major Mackenzie had been able to ward off most of her crewmates questions about their situation by assigning them to repair details on Hero. And while the Ancient technology was holding its own to keep their suspicions at bay, the crew was getting restless. It was time to give them some answers, whether they liked it or not.

"As you can see, the ship didn't fly through just one wormhole. It, in fact, traveled through several," Dr. McKay said freeze framing the display when the view was of several of the anomalies intersecting in front of the ship.

"What's that?" Sheppard asked pointing at a bubble free floating in space.

"Ah, space gas," McKay answered shrugging his shoulders.

John glared at the astrophysicist. "I think it's a little more than space gas Rodney," Sheppard grumbled. "Give me the remote," he ordered holding his hand out and snatching the remote from McKay's hand. He backed up the feed several frames and replayed it in slow motion. "The bubble is some type of gelatinous mass that has a fair amount of weight to it. Hero's trajectory changes when the ship collides with it," Sheppard commented pointing at the screen.

"And that is significant how?" McKay mumbled looking at the wall. He could feel the Colonel's eyes boring into him and turned to face his friend. "Look it doesn't matter if the ship was pushed through the wormhole by a gelatinous mass or flew through it under its own power. The bottom line is still the same. There is no way to send them back to their own universe because we cannot recreate the event that brought them to this time line."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Rodney replied flatly taking the remote back from the Colonel's hand. "Look, besides the telemetry of the ship intersecting these seven or so wormholes," he fast forwarded the video to a black spot in the screen. "We're missing a good eight or nine minutes of data. There is absolutely no record of what happened to the ship during that time. Maybe that's when they passed through a rift in the time continuum and ended up in our universe. There's no way to know," McKay said looking over at Sheppard. "The next time the sensors pick up any data is here and where you can see that the ship is tumbling through the wormhole as a physical unit. Then it exits through the Stargate in front of us."

McKay watched Sheppard as he stared blindly at the monitor and then began to pace around the room. McKay had seen Sheppard pissed off before and had been the target of his aggression on more than one occasion, but nothing could describe the gamut of emotion the rippled across the Colonel's face at that moment.

"The Stargate system as we know it only transfers compressed data streams, not physical objects. Both Major Mackenzie and Commander Doyle/Tucker whatever his name is …. said they have never heard of a Stargate system and has no idea if one even exists in their time line. They do, however, have hundreds, maybe thousands, of wormholes or sub-space corridors as they refer to them, which work like shortcuts across spatial sectors. Somehow the wormholes formed by our gate system collided with the sub-space corridors in a future time-line and Hero just happened to fly through the middle of it," McKay said trying to explain the event more thoroughly. "It was a freak accident and there isn't any way to rewind it."

"Are you sure that you, Zelenka and your teams _**cannot**_ recreate the event that stranded the Hero crew? Absolutely sure?" John asked him evenly.

"Yes," McKay replied flatly.

"And there's no other way to send them back?"

"Without a gate system in their universe?"

"Rodney," John interrupted tersely holding his hand up. "In fifteen minutes I have to walk into the conference room to tell the remaining ten members of Hero's crew that they are _**never**_ going to see their families again!"

John paced across the room and rested his hands on his hips. "Lieutenant Commander Mayweather has a wife and a three year old daughter. Commander T'Pol is fourteen weeks pregnant. Ensign Yi is a newlywed, Sergeant Kavan just got engaged, and Schmitt! Schmitt and his partner just bought a house." Sheppard spun around on his heel and looked McKay right in the eye. "These are just a few examples of the lives I have the misfortune of ruining by what I have to tell them. So before you make any rash judgments about what you can or cannot do, you need to be absolutely sure there is no other possible way to help these people get back to their timeline."

McKay was silent for a moment as Sheppard's words sunk in. Since the expedition to Atlantis started they had lost many friends. Some died at the hands of the Wraith and some were killed needlessly. One fact that was a constant for everyone attached to this expedition was that they had volunteered to be here, volunteered to take the good with the bad. McKay suspected the Hero's crew made the same commitment before signing up for their tour of duty. Getting killed in action was one thing, getting lost in space and sucked through a wormhole into an alternative universe and thrown back in time one hundred and fifty some years was another. Rodney completely understood why his answer was so important. He wished he could be a miracle worker to give another, but the reality was grim.

"On my sister's life John, I'm absolutely positive we cannot get them back," McKay replied looking Sheppard in the eye. "I should be there when you tell them," he added quietly not wanting Sheppard to have to be the bearer of bad news alone. "In case they have questions."

Sheppard nodded and paced to the window of the lab. "Does Major Mackenzie know?" he asked looking out the window at the ocean.

"Yeah. She been here the past two days going through the data with me," Rodney replied switching the monitor off. "She's very intelligent. Did you know she has a doctorate in physics?"

"And mathematics," Sheppard said without turning around. "She speaks seven languages," he added quietly.

"I can't believe she wanted to be a Marine. She could have been so much more," Rodney remarked and then backpedaled immediately when Sheppard turned around and faced him. "No offense," he said suddenly feeling stupid.

"Do you know where she went?" Sheppard asked ignoring the comment.

"No," Rodney replied. "She said she needed some air."

"That narrows it down," John mumbled as he headed out of the lab. "I'll see you in the conference room." He stopped in the doorway and turned around. "Bring that video and the data with you."

John found Major Mackenzie sitting on the balcony behind the control room. She had on the uniform that she had picked up during her ice cream run three nights ago. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and blew carelessly with the wind. He walked through the doors as a gust of ocean air hit him in the face. "Heard you needed some air," he said walking around in front of her. "Came to the right place," he remarked leaning against the railing.

"It's beautiful here," she remarked looking out at the water. "So peaceful," she muttered quietly. "It's kinda weird to be this high up though."

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked resting his hands on the rail.

"I live on a space ship," she muttered with a smirk on her face.

"So? What does that have to do with being afraid of heights?" he teased her watching her smile dance across her face. Her skin had a golden tone to it and he realized she wasn't wearing any make up. She didn't need it though, she had a natural beauty about her that she wore with confidence.

"I'm not afraid of heights," she laughed. "I just wasn't expecting to be a hundred stories above the water."

"Well, it's not a hundred," he said leaning toward her slightly. "It's more like thirty five."

"Semantics!" she laughed rolling her eyes. "You're just trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"I wish it was," she whispered biting her lower lip. "I don't … I don't know what to tell them John," she muttered. She watched him step away from the railing and sit next to her on the bench.

"I think you should tell them the truth," he said. "All of it. I'll be there, right beside you if you need a shoulder to lean on."

"But what if there's a chance? Maybe I should say that we're still investigating and that…."

"That's a bad idea Kirstin," he interrupted slowly. "You have to give it to them straight and not sugar coat it. They're military officers. They know the risks of any mission and if they didn't want to take that risk they wouldn't have signed up," Sheppard said. He gently touched the back of her hand with his to reassure her. "You're their leader and you're going to earn more credibility by having the integrity to be up front about what happened."

"By telling them that we crossed into an alternative universe and were thrown back in time?" she retorted with an incredulous expression on her face.

"Yes," he said flatly. "Kirstin, the members of your crew aren't just soldiers. They're deadly, they are like walking weapons ... tactical specialists and sceintists all in one. If you tell them anything else they're going to figure it out. Besides, it's not like they can't go back to Earth," he shrugged his shoulders downplaying the catastrophic nature of her message. "They can be there in an hour through the intergalactic bridge. Sure, it's not the Earth they left a month ago, but it's still home. They can go back to Earth to visit or start a new life or stay here. If they decide to stay, I'll absorb them into my team."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," he said standing up. "I can always use a few good officers around here … especially ones that can fix things with a little with duct tape and baling wire." He watched a smile creep across her face and her blue eyes sparkle. "It's time for the briefing. McKay's coming if anyone has questions."

"McKay?" she stood up and twirled her hair into a bun off of her collar. "Can I shoot him when he gets on my nerves?"

"Sure, if it will make you feel better," John chuckled walking next to her into the control room.

* * *

Trip heard her coming before she even said a word. Despite their years of separation he could still sense things about her. The past few days had only strengthened it. He was aware of the child before anyone had told him, as her maternal instincts were strong and at the forefront of her thoughts. And even though she tried to mask it, he could feel her reaching out to him at night while in his sleep. The sensation was comforting to him, link that had never been broken.

"Commander."

He looked up at her as she stood across from him in the main cafeteria. Tucker was amused to find her dressed in a Starfleet uniform, as she never wore one when they were assigned to Enterprise. He noticed she was nervously fiddling with a PADD in her hand.

"T'Pol," he muttered arching his eyebrow at her. "We back to that again?" he asked motioning for her to sit at the table.

"I thought it would be prudent to retain a certain amount of formality," she casually glanced toward the armed escort standing a few feet from their table, "around our hosts." She pulled a chair out and sat down.

"Ah," Trip said nodding his head. He picked up his glass of juice. "How's junior today" he asked before taking a swallow.

Instinctively T'Pol put her hand on her stomach to feel the life inside of her. "He's fine," she replied. "I saw Dr. Keller this morning and she said he appears to be well."

"Good, I wouldn't want my godson to have to start fighting battles before he see the sun," Trip said winking at her.

"Godson?" she repeated with a questioning expression.

"It's an Earth tradition," Trip explained taking a final swallow of his juice. "Once a child is born, the parents pick _god parents, _a man and a woman…usually friends, to provide guidance for the child as he or she grows up."

"Interesting concept," T'Pol replied setting the PADD down on the table. "And you have designated yourself as his godparent?"

Trip shrugged and pushed his tray away. "Considering our history, I figured you wouldn't mind," he muttered steepling his hands in front of his face. He closed his eyes for a moment remembering the short life of the child they shared between them. _Maybe if I'm lucky she'll let me be more than that, _he thought opening his eyes and changing the subject. "What's on the PADD?"

"I was reviewing the telemetry from Hero's passage through the anomaly," she said looking down at it.

Trip rolled his eyes and coughed. "Didn't Dr. McKay and Major Mackenzie already beat that to death this morning?"

"Dr. McKay based his analysis on the premise that he couldn't recreate the event that brought us here," she remarked. She turned the PADD on and slid it across the table to Tucker. "There may be a way for us to get back using the gate."

"How?" Tucker questioned her. "We don't have gates in our universe."

"That may not be true," she said quietly.

"Where? I have never seen any intel on it," the Commander scowled. "I'm cleared at one of the highest security levels and if they existed I think I or someone at _the agency_ would have known. Have you seen the size of that thing? It's not like its hiding behind a tree at Starfleet Command."

"There were reports in Vulcan security circles the Iconians had access to portals that gave the ability to travel across space to different planets," she said giving him one of her signature stares.

"The Iconians?" he questioned tilting his head to the side in disbelief. Tucker had previous experience with the Iconians and saw some of their technology first hand. The species hardly seemed the type to be experts in gate technology. "How valid are those reports? If I remember correctly your planet's security intel reported flying dragons on some planet that Starfleet had tagged for a base," he said flatly staring at her. "T'Pol?" he repeated when she didn't answer.

"The intel is dated, but I believe it to be valid. The Iconians broke off diplomatic negotiations when word of the portals leaked out," T'Pol replied arching her brow defensively.

"T'Pol, you're grasping at straws," he said trying to reason with her. "Admit it. Even if the Iconians did have a portal that was remotely similar to this universe's gate system it would not give us a means to travel home. It would be as unlikely as Daniels dropping in the Infirmary tonight to tell me this was all one big mistake!"

"You don't know that Trip," she replied defensively. "You cannot rule out the possibility."

"I can," he fired back a little louder than he expected when he saw the heads at other tables turn and look at him. He leaned into the table to make his point. "Have you _even_ looked at their star charts? I have. In our universe, Vulcan is sixteen light years from Earth. Here, outside of Alpha Centauri, which is uninhabited by the way, the closest planet is about forty or so light years away and it's inhabited by crystalline entities, not humanoids with pointy ears."

He noticed a ripple of emotion cross her face. He knew that expression all to well, the hurt regretful look of hers. It irritated him that she would try to use it to gain his sympathy, but it worked. He suddenly felt guilty for yelling at her, she was pregnant after all.

"Look," he sighed trying to lay some damage control on the table. "On the remote chance the Iconians had a portal, for it to be useful to us, we would need to know its exact location. Then we would need to find a planet in this universe with a gate that held the same spatial location. It's not possible T'Pol, there are too many what ifs and unknowns. Our star charts aren't that similar. The only planets we have in common at this point are Earth and Alpha Centauri," he argued tersely. He sat back and watched her carefully. To an outsider, she was just sitting there looking at him, but her knew the truth. She was pissed and not just a little either, she was royally pissed.

"I can see it's pointless to discuss this with you," she remarked pulling the PADD back and switching it off. "You are obviously being biased by emotions."

"I'm biased? I think you got that wrong Commander," he said flatly taking the conversation up a notch. "There's nothing for me in our timeline. The few people on Earth that I cared about are dead, my parents, my sister, Archer and now Reed. The only people that are important to me anymore are right here. You, your child, Travis, Mackenzie and the rest of the crew," he said slowly standing up from the table. "Maybe it's your child's father is who you're trying to get back to, I don't know," Trip said looking down at her. "But if you continue to chase ghosts, you're going to miss out on a lot of life." Tucker slipped his hand into the metal crutch and walked slowly away from the table leaving T'Pol to her own thoughts.

* * *

"Commander Doyle!" Mackenzie shouted when she saw Tucker limping down a corridor with his escort. She jogged up to him, noticing he turned to wait for her as she approached. "I was looking for you sir," she muttered as she panted lightly from her little jog.

"Well, I'm not too hard to find. Infirmary, the mess hall and the gym are about the only places I go these days," Tucker said. "What'd'ya need Major?"

"I have an engineering problem on Hero that requires your expertise," she remarked. "Are you up for a walk?"

"That all depends on how far I have to go," Trip chuckled waving one of his crutches at her. "I'm not very mobile."

"Hero is docked in one of the jumper bays," Mackenzie said looking to Tucker's escort. "We can take the transporter to get there. Corporal, I'll take it from here. Thank you," she said politely to the young man.

"Yes ma'm," the man replied inclining his head slightly. "Sir," he directed at Tucker and left the two Starfleet officers to their own devices.

Trip watched the man walk out of earshot before he said anything to Mackenzie. "Engineering problem? Is that the new code word for relationship issue?"

"Excuse me?"

Tucker tilted his head and delivered a big brother stare. "Come on Mac, this is me you're talking too. There seems to be a certain Lieutenant Colonel that has you in his sights." The expression on her face, the crimson burn of her cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes and the slight upturn of her lip gave her away before she could even say anything in her defense.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered biting her lip nervously.

Trip laughed at her innocent behavior and took a step closer to her. "Oh he's definitely interested and I'm surprised, but you've let him in," Tucker whispered in her ear.

Kirstin giggled through her school-girl crush. "What? Are you my big brother now?" she smiled pulling her communicator out of her uniform pocket.

"Looks like I may have to be, especially if he's planning to get in your p…."

Kirstin reached over and put her finger on his lips. "Stop!" she said laughing. She knew exactly where he was going with that and it didn't need to be said, at least not in the middle of a corridor that Colonel Sheppard could come walking down at any minute. She flipped her communicator open. "Hero, two transport," she said into it.

The moment they rematerialized on the transporter pad on Hero she turned on Tucker. "You don't know when to quit do you?"

"What? Mac, why are you denying it? I see the way he looks at you. I know that look, I've looked at women like that. Just because I was a spy for six years doesn't mean I was dead," Tucker argued, gingerly stepping down from the pad.

"Oh funny Trip! You're hilarious. Besides, it's not like that," Kirstin said annoyed at his corny joke. "He has a girlfriend."

"Since when? The briefing?" Tucker asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"No, since before we got here," she replied walking toward the turbolift with him.

"Proof?" Tucker questioned her.

"McKay made a comment…" Mackenzie mumbled quietly.

"McKay?" Tucker guffawed. He turned to look at Kirstin, leaning against the bulkhead for support. "Look, take it from your pseudo big brother the geek who had the school-boy crush on the pretty girl. McKay is enamored with you…."

"No, no, no," Kirstin said shaking her head waving her right index finger in the air. "Do not go there! Do not mention McKay's name and attracted to me in the same sentence!"

"Will you just shut up a minute and listen to me?" Trip said flatly. "McKay will say anything to deter you from falling for the Colonel and that includes fabricating a girlfriend for him."

"I saw them together yesterday," she replied defensively.

Tucker slumped his head to the side and gave her an "uh huh" frown. "Anyone I know?"

"That red-head Taylor … or whatever," Kirstin said rolling her eyes.

"Teyla," Trip clarified. "She'll be working with me on my physical therapy."

"Ah, great," Mac muttered. "I'll be sure to steer clear of your appointment time."

"They aren't seeing each other," Trip told her shaking his head.

"Oh, like you're the expert? We've been here all of four days!" Kirstin yelled getting frustrated with the conversation.

"I don't need to be an expert on Atlantis to read people!" he fired back at her. The volley between them gave him the sensation of déjà vu. He remembered a similar conversation with her seven years before on Enterprise. The object of her affection then was young Travis Mayweather. _Always attracted to the flyboys, _he thought chuckling softly.

"You think this is funny?" Kirstin growled. Her scheme to have some one on one time with him just blew up in her face. His big brother routine was taunting her last nerve.

"Yeah, I think its funny because you never change! I had nearly the same conversation with you seven years ago when you had a thing for Mayweather. You're paranoid Kristin!" Tucker replied sternly. He watched her cross her arms at her chest and get that _change the subject _expression on her face. "I may not know John Sheppard as well as I know you, Travis or T'Pol, but I think I'm a pretty good judge of character and Sheppard doesn't seem like the kind of guy that would date someone in his chain of command," Trip said flatly.

Kirstin pursed her lips and looked away from him at the sickbay door. "Can we just drop it?"

* * *

T'Pol wandered aimlessly through the city. She had no purpose and nothing to do, it was an odd situation indeed. For the first time in her life, T'Pol felt useless and it bothered her. Meditating was out of the question for _he _would invade her space. While she enjoyed their quiet moments together enviably they would get into an argument and she was definitely not in the mood for that. So she was left to her own devices, walking alone with only her thoughts. She found the solitude of the boardwalk on the east pier refreshing and lingered in the night air to sort out her situation.

Trip was wrong about her. She was not obsessed with getting back to their timeline. She only brought up the idea because she thought that is what he would want. That's what he wanted in his sleep. His dreams were as different as the night. Sometimes they were brutal nightmares or reenactments of his beatings at the prison, what the guards or other prisoners had done to him. Other times they were intricate stories of his time with a Romulan woman he called Lennae.

It was never her intent to intrude on his dreams, but they came to her effortlessly. It began in the Infirmary before she awoke from her injuries. He reached out to her, sharing his resilience and his determination for survival. Her logic told her it was the bond that was forged between them so long ago. Her heart was in conflict with that reality, which was nothing new for her. Her attraction to Tucker had set her off balance for years. Just when she thought she had moved past it, he was there again. It wasn't just a coincidence either. He could sense things about her. Trip knew of her child before she could inform him and for all she knew he probably was aware of his lineage too.

T'Pol ran her hand across her stomach and closed her eyes. Three years ago she had severed the bond with Trip and moved on with her life. She never took another mate and as her time approached she requested a proxy from the Vulcan Medical Institute. Jonathan's arrival for the conference was a mere coincidence. His words echoed in her head. _You can stand there and tell me that you're over him, but I can see it in your eyes T'Pol. You can't hide it from me, I've known you too long and too well. You're still in love with Trip. A love like that doesn't just go away. It stays inside of you forever. _When she informed him of her condition and her upcoming appointment, Jonathan was furious with her. _This time only comes once every seven years for your people. Trip wouldn't have wanted you to spend your first time with a complete stranger, someone who is nothing to you. I'm damn sure not going to stand by and let you go through with it. _

The words were crisp in her memory as were the emotions that Jonathan had unleashed in her during those days. For the first time since she had been with Trip, she felt alive inside. Conception occurred effortlessly. T'Pol knew immediately that Jonathan's seed had been planted within her. She held off telling him until the doctor confirmed the child was healthy. The opportunity to change their lives was snatched from them before Jonathan ever knew of his son.

So, like Trip, she had nothing waiting for her in their timeline. With Jonathan gone, all that mattered to her was here in this city named Atlantis. Even if there was a world named Vulcan in this timeline, she wouldn't go there. She didn't fit in. Soval had often criticized her of being with Human's too long. After living on Vulcan for the past three years, she finally agreed. She found the unpredictable human lifestyle appealing and the logical, purposeful routine of her fellow Vulcans down right boring. Someday she would find the courage to admit that to Trip and she was sure he would find it amusing. She sometimes found it amusing herself.

She sat quietly on the bench and listened to the waves crash against the pier. This was an odd city being completely surrounded by water. The mainland wasn't even visible from the highest spire. Atlantis was a stark contrast to the deserts of Vulcan. T'Pol felt a chill in the air and finally gathered herself to make her trek back to the building.

* * *

"Take it easy Mac!" Lieutenant Bowyer said sternly as he ran Major Mackenzie through the paces of her physical therapy session. She was pushing herself too hard and for the wrong reasons. "You can't take your aggression out on your shoulder!"

"Aghhh!" she grunted pulling out of Bowyer's grasp. "I'm done," she muttered walking across the workout area to the bench that held her gym bag.

"Want to talk about it?" Chip said watching her gather her things.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Don't do this Mac," he said stepping closer to her.

"Do what?" she snapped loudly.

"Compartmentalize your grief," Bowyer said curtly.

"I'm not," she said pulling her hair out of its pony tail. "I told you before, I'm okay with it."

"Really? Why do I think you're lying then? To me to yourself?"

"Maybe you're being paranoid," she replied sarcastically. "A word of advice, don't get too close to me … because everyone that does ends up dead." She turned to leave the room but he blocked the door. Mac stared at him and contemplated her options. Bowyer was tall and built like a football player. His neck was as wide as his head and the rest of his body, all two hundred and thirty five pounds, was solid muscle. He towered over her by at least a foot and could probably smash her five foot three, one hundred pound body with his thumb. Attempting to kick his butt wasn't even worth the effort her brain would put in to formulate the thought. "Chip, don't start," she sighed.

"Don't start? Looks like I have too," he said looking down at her. "Not everyone that is close to you is dead."

She crossed her arms at her chest. "You know what I mean," she mumbled looking down at the floor. "My relationship with Admiral Archer the past few years," she paused and blinked as a tear ran down her face. "He was like a father to me and Malcolm…." her voice trailed off to a whisper. "I'm alone now."

"You're not alone," he said softly. "You'll never be alone." Chip stepped closer to her and pulled Mackenzie into his arms. They held the embrace several minutes in silence. "Besides, I think there is someone interested in you here," he finally said as he released her.

"Huh?" Mackenzie replied trying to play dumb. Bowyer and she had been friends for a couple of years and he was good at picking up on things, but Kirstin was sure she had masked her feelings for Sheppard from the team.

"At the briefing it was pretty apparent that one of the Atlantis staff has his sights set on you," Bowyer said with a smirk on his face.

"Is it that obvious?" Mac asked trying to remember how John had acted in front of the Hero crew.

"Oh yeah," Chip laughed heartily. "Everyone noticed…especially your cheesy little smiles. I will say I'm a little surprised though. I didn't think that he was your type."

"What?" Mac exclaimed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing to get all freaked out about," Chip said shrugging his shoulders. "I just didn't think you were into the geeky type."

Kirstin stared at the Lieutenant in disbelief. "Geeky type?" she muttered trying to process what he had just said. "Wait….you don't… oh no no no no," she shook her head and laughed. "You think McKay is interested in me?"

"Completely! That dude has a full-blown school boy crush on you!"

"Stop!" Kirstin blurted out holding up her hand and dropping her bag. "No, you've got it all wrong," she coughed out. "I mean, yeah, he has made it obvious that he's interested, but I'm not!" she backed up from Bowyer and shook her head. "He's fricken annoying as hell and ugh, don't even get me started. I'm not interested in him at all."

Bowyer chuckled at the way she was acting. "Really?" he quipped. "Are you sure? You were really cheesy with him today."

"I was being polite because he was being an ass! I really wanted to kick the crap out of him!" Kirstin replied completely appalled at the memory of McKay trying to hit on her. She shuddered just thinking about it. "The only reason why he likes me is because I matched wits with him," she muttered.

"You think he likes you because you're smart?" Bowyer laughed. "It couldn't be because of you're hot?"

"No," she replied resoundingly pacing around the room. "Look, when you guys were all unconscious on the ship and I was trying to defend our position, I could hear his voice echoing through the corridors a mile a minute about how he couldn't wait to fire the engines, run a diagnostic and figure out our technology. You have no idea how much pleasure it gave me to drop the stun grenade at his feet."

"What's you're point?" Bowyer asked furrowing his brow.

"When he woke up, it was all I could do to restrain myself to not do it again!" she yelled waving her hands in the air. "Ask Major Lorne! He practically had to step between us," she replied grabbing her gear and headed for the door. "Enough with the _hot _talk Mister."

"If the truth hurts," he called out to her before she could escape.

"Yeah, but people might start thinking…." Kirstin started to laugh. "Remember when Archer thought you were interested in me?"

Bowyer's facial expression changed drastically at the memory. "You mean, the night you invited me to dinner and I thought he was going to shoot me with his phase pistol? He sure stepped right into the father role with you." The Lieutenant arched his brow at her and walked to the door. "Not a night I wanted to remember."

"Yeah, well he was nice to you later," Kirstin replied in defense of the Admiral.

"After you told him that I was gay!" Bowyer reminded her sharply. "You know the Marine's position on that … he could have gotten me kicked out of the service."

"You're being paranoid again!" Mackenzie chided him. "First of all, he would have never told anyone about you. In fact he took your secret to his grave! And secondly, the Marine Corps hasn't court-martialed anyone on their sexual preference in over a hundred years."

"Well, let's hope this universe's Marine Corps is as open minded," Bowyer muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Schmitty and I have both accepted positions here on the base," Chip replied looking back at Mackenzie. "Dr. Keller offered me a spot on her team and Jon is being assigned to security."

Kirstin didn't know what to say. Sheppard had just made the offer this morning and already her team was breaking up? "That was fast," she muttered.

"It didn't make sense to wait," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Its not like we can just go back to our house in Madison." He looked down at his watch. "Crap, I gotta go," he said stepping into the hallway. "I have a meeting with Dr. Chu in five minutes."

Kirstin stood in the empty gym for several minutes after he left. Her feelings were raw from his revelation. She knew the day would come when her team would make their decisions, she just didn't think it would be today. Mackenzie left the gym a few minutes later and walked blindly down the hallway back to her studio. She turned a corner and nearly ran head on into Commander T'Pol.

"Commander," she muttered stopping dead in her tracks.

"Major?" T'Pol greeted the young woman. "Are you alright? You seem agitated."

"I wa … it's been a long day," Kirstin stuttered avoiding eye contact with her.

"I needed to speak to you," T'Pol started to say as Kirstin cut her off.

"Why? Did you jump on Commander Doyle.. er Tucker's bandwagon to court-martial me?" Mackenzie retorted. She immediately regretted it. "Sorry," she mumbled quietly.

T'Pol tilted her head, perplexed by the Major's behavior. "Commander Tucker is not in position to _court-martial _anyone," she replied evenly.

"Oh, well, you obviously haven't talked to him yet," Mackenzie remarked crossing her arms at her chest. "Maybe you'll change your mind when you do."

"Why don't you enlighten me Major?"

Kirstin dropped her hands to her side and looked in T'Pol's direction. "I breeched protocol by discussing our technology with Colonel Sheppard," she answered flatly.

T'Pol was silent as she considered the consequences of the act. Normally she would agree the infraction was a breech of protocol, but their situation was unusually different. Colonel Sheppard had already been exposed to their systems when he boarded the ship and rescued the crew. Ultimately, they could not go back to their universe and would need allies to survive. This culture was capable of space travel and the gate system could take them to other planets in two galaxies. The technology she observed around Atlantis was equal to most of the systems on Hero. The city itself had some type of internal transporter system and Dr. McKay had informed her their battle cruisers, Daedalus and Apollo, also had transporter technology. The 2007 Earth in this universe was far more advanced that the 2161 Earth she knew.

"Considering the technology of this city, I'd hardly find your discussion a violation of protocol," T'Pol resolved. "In fact, after visiting their mess hall, I believe they could benefit from our installation of a protein re-sequencer."

Kirstin burst into laughter at T'Pol's comment which garnered one of the Vulcan's signature raised eyebrow glances. "I think we have some extra parts in the pod bay," she remarked with a smile. "Thank you, Commander."

"I was merely stating the facts, Major," T'Pol replied. "The food in the mess hall is not appealing. The blue gelantious substance that everyone is fond of is quite interesting."

"Interesting? You didn't eat any of it did you?"

"No."

"Good because its made from pork bi-products," Kirstin informed her. She caught T'Pol's eye language and laughed some more. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"I have a personal matter to discuss," T'Pol said inclining her head. She started to walk slowly down the corridor with Kirstin. "I would like for you to be my child's god mother," she said hesitantly.

"Really? Are you sure?" Kirstin mumbled caught off guard by T'Pol's request.

"Jonathan was very fond of you and considered you family. I told you earlier that you could visit the child anytime, however our situation has changed and I feel he could benefit from your guidance."

"I'm flattered and honored," Kirstin replied instinctively reaching for T'Pol to pull her into a hug. She stopped short and rested her hand on her shoulder instead.

"You should be aware Commander Tucker has designated himself as the god father," T'Pol informed her.

Kirstin chuckled at the irony. "Well that figures," she replied. "He has to nose into my business like a big brother. It makes sense that he would need to do that to your son."

"Indeed," T'Pol added.

Kirstin bit her lip and looked at the Vulcan Commander. "T'Pol, Jon knew about the baby," Mackenzie said sliding her hands into her pants pocket.

"That is impossible," the Vulcan replied. She stopped walking and turned to face the Major. "I did not have the opportunity to inform him."

"I know, and it doesn't make any sense … but he did," Kirstin said, her eyes sparkling with emotion. "He was so happy about it. When he got back from Vulcan he called me and wanted my opinion about painting the study and turning it into a nursery."

"Interesting."

"He truly cared about you T'Pol," Kirstin remarked quietly. "More than just a friend I think."

"I've made a decision to name the child after his father," T'Pol said not acknowledging Kirstin's observations. "I haven't told Trip of his lineage. I'm having difficulty finding a way to verbalize it."

"Do you think that's really necessary?" Kirstin asked her. The two women started to walk down the corridor again. "He knows of your friendship with Jon and it wouldn't be that big of stretch that you would name your son after him."

"Kirstin, my child is partially human. It would be illogical to believe Trip wouldn't question his parentage," T'Pol reminded her.

"Yeah, but unless he's born looking like a miniature Jon, I don't see where it's any of Trip's business. Your relationship with him was over six years ago," Kirstin replied defensively. "I'm sorry. I'm being protective of Jon's interests."

"Understandable considering your relationship the past six years," T'Pol said reassuringly. T'Pol watched Kirstin nod and they walked in silence for several minutes. T'Pol sensed the woman was struggling to deal with a gamut of emotions from the past few days. When they reached the transporter that took them up to their studios, T'Pol paused a moment. "Will you be joining me later to mediate?"

Mackenzie shook her head. "I'm really tired. I think I'm going to just hit the rack."

"Perhaps it would be wise to clear your head before doing so," T'Pol remarked eyeing her carefully. "I'll plan for your arrival in an hour, Kirstin. No is not an option."

"Yes, ma'm," Mackenzie replied knowing it was fruitless to argue with her further.

* * *

_Is today over yet? _Trip pondered as he shuffled quietly through the Infirmary. _Seriously it can't get any worse. _Trip stopped at the side of his bed and gritted his teeth as he sat down gingerly. He looked to the side and eyed the mattress carefully. _Okay, I take that back, it can get worse. _He wanted to lie down but the effort it was going to take to get into the position almost wasn't worth it. _Who knew the simple act of lying down would be such a pain in the butt for someone with a sore back? _Tucker had been through the imaging-regeneration chamber on Hero three times. His injuries were certainly better than they had been the night of his rescue, but he was by no means cured. Both Dr. Keller and Lieutenant Bowyer had warned him that it might be months before he started to feel like his normal self.

_My normal self? _Trip chuckled at the thought of it. _I don't even know who that is any more. I've been another person far too long. _He had a handful of aliases at his disposal and could be someone else at a moments notice….just as long as that someone else was a Romulan for the most part. Trip ran his hand over his forehead feeling for the implants that had been apart of him for so long. Of course they were gone. Lieutenant Bowyer had removed them at his insistence shortly after his rescue. The irony was his head and his ears felt weird now. _Never actually got used to them and now I miss the blasted things. _

_Missing things, _he mused staring blindly at the bed next to him. For eight months of his confinement he had vivid dreams about all the things he missed. The structure and order of Starfleet, joking with Malcolm in the gym, watching water polo with Archer, the odor of Engineering, the sweet smell of fresh cut grass of his parent's backyard. Something of the things he missed he would never be able to touch again, the small of Lennae's back, the Romulan's vile excuse for an alcoholic beverage or his mother's pecan pie. The things that he could embrace weren't going to be easily attained.

Although the concept of going back to Earth in less than an hour was a bit strange to him, the reality was he could do it. He could even find a fresh cut yard to stand in or a restaurant that served pecan pie, but it wasn't his earth he was going back to, or his parent's yard or his mother's pie. He could re-connect with a few of his friends and even meet some new ones, once he had figured out how to be a friend and not a condescending butt-hole like he had been all day. _Okay, maybe all week was a better classification, _he mused.

It started days ago when he realized that T'Pol was pregnant. Logically he never thought she would wait for him, but in his heart he wished she had. He had made it clear to her today that he would be there to support both of them for the long haul, for better or for worse. He could feel T'Pol's relief through their bond which gave him a sense of security. Unfortunately it did nothing to rid him on the burning pit of jealousy that was bunched up in his gut. T'Pol wasn't just any woman, she was his and the mere thought that she bonded with someone else … well, it just wasn't anything that he really wanted to think about.

And then there was Kirstin Mackenzie. She had been through more hell in her life that the twenty people. Besides being a child prodigy, she grew up without a mother, lost her sister in a car accident, her brother, father and fiancé in the Xindi attack, and her confidant, Major Hayes, during the Xindi mission. Both he and Malcolm had taken her under their wing and she became like a little sister to them. Trip knew it had to tear Kirsten up inside to have to be the one that told him that not only did Malcolm not survive his injuries after the ship was attacked by the Romulans but that Admiral Archer had died in some ridiculous manner that didn't make any sense. And after it was all said and out in the open, he promised he wasn't going anywhere and would be her family now. Trip just needed to figure out when to draw the line between brotherly advice and flat out yelling at her as her commanding officer.

Truth be told, who was he to question anything she had done the past four days? Mackenzie and her team saved his ass from that Romulan prison and while her senior staff lay unconscious, she took command, found a safe haven for her crew and did want she needed to do to survive. So instead of thanking her and putting her in for accommodation for bravery, he repaid her by pulling rank! Officially he didn't actually have any rank to pull … at least Charles Tucker the Third didn't as far as Starfleet was concerned. Charles Tucker the Third had died six years ago on Enterprise.

Commander Logan Doyle the Third, the guy Trip had become after he left Enterprise, was another story. Logan was Trip's best friend in third grade and Doyle was his grandmother's maiden name, put together it was his identity to Starfleet Intelligence and _The Agency, _as least on paper anyway. Logan Doyle had graduated with honors from Notre Dame and had a manufactured service record, compliments of _The Agency_. Even his retinal scan was different from Charles Tucker and the few times he had covertly returned to San Francisco over the past six years no one questioned Doyle's identity or even mistaken him with Tucker, not even Jonathan Archer who Tucker spoofed once, just to see if he could get away with it.

Trip sighed and closed his eyes. Things were complicated enough without his identity getting in the way. T'Pol, Mayweather and Mackenzie knew him as Tucker, the rest of the crew of Hero knew him as Doyle and he spent most of his life the past six years as Doyle or a handful of other people depending on the situation. How would he live out the rest of his days?

"Commander?"

He didn't have to think about it long as he opened his eyes to find Colonel Sheppard standing in front of him. "Colonel," he greeting the wild haired man.

"Did I disturb you?"

"No, actually I was just thinking about …. how messed up things are these days and," Trip paused and started to chuckle. "How much it hurts to lie down."

The Colonel smirked and sat down on the bed across from Trip's. "Well, unfortunately, I can relate to both. I've spent a good deal of time in one of those beds and since arriving in Atlantis I've been able to make a mess out of a few things myself."

"Well, that Colonel is the makings of a great friendship," Trip replied with a hearty chuckle.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: No infringement intended to either SGA or ENT.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate all of them good or bad. Bob: It's not a plot hole that the Mirror Universe isn't mentioned because it's not a Mirror Universe story. It's a story about coping with what life throws at you. It's no different than throwing your favorite pair of jeans into the laundry. They fit perfect yesterday but today when you take them out of the dryer, they've shrunk. There isn't a dang thing you can to change it. You just have to deal with it.

Chapter 5

Travis Mayweather squinted as he stared out the window at the cityscape. The morning sun was streaming through the glass of Kate Heightmeyers's office in a near blinding capacity. He ran his hands over his bald head and laced his fingers behind his neck. He turned around and paced across the room. "I know what you're thinking," he mumbled as he crossed the small room in a matter of seconds.

"Actually, I'm not thinking anything," Heightmeyer said with a smile. "Other than I need some coffee." She stood up and walked to the credenza along the wall where her coffee pot sat. "Do you?" she asked gesturing at the pot.

"No," Travis said turning around. "Na… yeah, I do," he said dropping his hands and walking slowly back to the small sofa to sit down.

"Let me guess ….. black with sugar?" Kate asked looking back at him with an anticipatory smile.

"Yeah," he replied with a chuckle. "Howd'ja know?"

"Well, Colonel Sheppard takes it black, Major Lorne takes it with sugar and cream and they're both pilots. I figured you'd take it somewhere in between," she replied handing him the cup.

"My dad took it black. He tried to convince me that if you were going to get hooked on coffee you needed to take it straight up like whiskey," Travis said. "But I couldn't do it. On the freighter I grew up on the coffee tasted terrible. I don't think it was real coffee. It was freeze dried chicory root or something like that, you had to put sugar in it to just make it palatable." Travis chuckled at the memory and took a sip of the sweet brown liquid.

"Well, I can't say this is much better," Kate laughed sitting in her chair across from him. "I'm not even sure where we get it from and maybe I don't want to know."

"The coffee on Hero is pretty good," Travis said quietly. "It comes out of the replicator," he paused and caught her bristling at the sound of the word. "Sorry, I heard that's a sensitive word around here. But that's what we call the machine that makes ….. stuff." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged as he tried to explain it.

"Sorry. Its …word association," she said sheepishly.

"Words, people….. it all evokes memories," he remarked leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. He was quiet for several minutes and then started rambling. "I was born in space on my family's freighter, the Horizon. I grew up there. Space life was all I knew. In our century I'm known as a Boomer…that's the slang term for kids that grew up or were born in space," he explained looking at her again.

"When I was nineteen, I left the Horizon to attend Starfleet Academy….it's like the military academies in this century, but for space. My dad was mad about it because he was grooming me to take over as captain. I didn't make it back to the Horizon for five years. I sent them email every now and then, but by the time I actually stopped by for a visit, my father was dead. I didn't even get to say goodbye," he paused and stared at the floor. "At least this time I got to say goodbye. But…now that I think about it, I'm not sure if that was really my life. It wasn't the life I thought I would live anyway and oddly enough, I'm really not that upset that I can't go back."

"You're still in shock, Travis, from your injuries and the news yesterday," Kate reminded him. "It's natural to feel some disassociation at first."

"No, it's different than that," Travis muttered. "Gannet and I, that's my wife's name, Gannet. We dated when I was at Starfleet and it didn't work out. She didn't want a life in space and I couldn't imagine a life on the ground. We went our separate ways and then a few years later we reconnected. Then after a _really_ long distance relationship one day she told me that she was pregnant. I wasn't very happy about it. I mean, I never questioned that the child was mine. I just wasn't ready to settle I guess. In my dreams I always thought I would raise my family on the Horizon. But she didn't want any part of that."

He set the cup down on the table and stood up. He walked to the window and stared out it blindly. "I felt like I was duped into taking a teaching position at the Academy, teaching cadets how to fly shuttle craft and starships. The baby came and Gannet was insistent that we get married, so I did it all. Bought a house and lived her fairy tale. I love my daughter, but she's not mine." He looked back at Heightmeyer and caught a puzzled expression on her face. He shrugged his shoulders and turned, leaning against the window.

"She never looked like me and the older she got it was more evident," he explained wringing his hands. "So I had a paternity test done. She's not mine. Not biologically anyway. It was all part of Gannet's plan to hook me. She knew that once I fell in love with Noel I would never leave them….at least not for another woman anyway."

He paced across the room again and fingered the edge of the couch. "When I was offered this mission, I didn't even think twice about it. I couldn't wait to get back in a ship for more than a couple of hours. Gannet knew I was unhappy. She wasn't even that upset when I told her. Maybe she knew in her heart that I wasn't coming back. The first couple of days I missed them both, but then one night, I had a dream that it was a one way mission. I can't remember if the ship was blown up or if we were captured ….but when I woke up, I told myself that I had to prepare for the reality that I would never go back to them. One way or another, I wasn't going to be living on the ground again," he said walking around the sofa and sitting down. He picked up the coffee cup. "Of course, I hadn't figured living in a floating city into the equation."

* * *

"John…..wait!" Kirstin Mackenzie gasped as she slowed to a trot and then stopped running completely. She leaned over at her waist and rested her palms on her knees for a second. The fresh air felt great, but the burn in her legs, chest and stomach did not.

Colonel Sheppard turned and looked back at the Major. "You're not going to puke are you?" he asked when he saw the green tinge to her skin. He walked back to where she was standing and handed her his water bottle.

Mackenzie dropped to one knee and took the bottle from his hand. She rolled the cool plastic over her forehead and took a couple of deep breaths. A gust of ocean air swept over her skin. "It's been a while since I ran on the ground," she muttered trying to calm things, her stomach, her breathing and her heart. _He's fricken hot with a little sweat on him, _she thought sneaking a peek at the Colonel.

"That's sounds like an excuse if I've ever heard one," Sheppard said squatting down on her level. "Next you're going to tell me that the ocean air is affecting your asthma."

"I don't have asthma," she replied tossing a quick glare in his direction. "I'm not Rodney McKay."

"Oh, ouch! Let's see… what was it? Panic attacks," he kidded her. "You don't get them from running do you?"

"No," she replied smartly. "You run this every morning?" She swallowed hard as she felt a lump in her throat.

"It depends, sometimes I'll run the superstructure under the city," Sheppard said noticing the color had drained from her face. He ran his hand over her shoulders and realized she was burning up. He took the water bottle from her and rested it on the back of her neck. Her breathing had quickened and she was starting to tremble. _Yep, she's going to barf, _he thought as the green tinge returned to her features.

"Watch out!" Mackenzie blurted out darting for the side of the walk. She dove on her stomach and vomited over the side into the water below. After coughing the last of her breakfast into the drink, she rolled slowly onto her back and sat up, resting her head on her knees. "I feel sick," she mumbled under her breath.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Sheppard said in his signature style. He walked over to where she sat. "Maybe you pushed it a little too hard today." He knelt next to her and ran his hand across her back hesitantly.

"It's not that," Kirstin said swallowing hard. "Where's the water?" she asked looking around for the bottle.

He handed her the bottle and stared at her with concerned. "What is it then?"

"I have an appointment with the shrink today," Mackenzie replied squirting the cool liquid into her mouth. She swished it around and then turned and spit it out in the lake. She rolled on her side and pulled a roll of breath mints from the pocket of her shorts. She popped a mint into her mouth and offered the roll to John.

"You're letting that make you sick?" Sheppard retorted, taking the roll from her. Mackenzie exuded confidence in her abilities and had earned respect and credibility with his Marines on the base in the short time she had been there. It surprised him that she would be _that _nervous about a simple conversation with Kate. "Heightmeyer is harmless and she's not a shrink per sec. She's a psychologist." He removed one mint from the wrapper and handed it back to Kirstin.

Kirstin watched him put the mint on his tongue. "You're killing me John. Same difference. I hate shrinks. I've seen enough of them to last a lifetime," she smirked and pocketed the mints.

Sheppard sat back on the deck and relaxed. "Well, you can't be that bad, you don't seem like the Freddy Kruger type," he said looking over at her with a smirk on his face.

Kirstin rolled her eyes. "I remind you of Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"No … not at all … of course you did point a weapon at my head."

"It was set on stun. Anyway, when you can do high school calculus at age five, people tend to psychoanalyze you," Kirstin said rolling over to her stomach. She propped her head up on her hands. "Can't you get me out of it?"

"No," he replied firmly. "The IOA board that governs the Stargate program and this expedition is requiring it," he said somberly. "It's just a formality so stop sweating it. Once you get the all clear you can start going on off world missions and stuff."

"If I want too," she said looking over at him.

"Yeah, well, that or go back to Earth," he said shrugging his shoulders. He watched her carefully as she inched up on the sidewalk and stared over the edge at the water.

"Has anyone ever gone swimming in there?"

"In the lagoon?" he questioned pointing down at the contained lake. "Not that I know of."

"What kind of water critters are in there?"

"I saw some kind of fish when we flew Hero to the underwater bay," he said snarling his lip. "Why?"

"I like to go swimming," she muttered letting the waves hypnotize her.

John said nothing as he watched her. His reflexes were on edge, ready to pounce at the first inkling that she was about to _do _something. In just the few days that he had known her, he had learned a lot. Kirstin opened only small windows to the person inside and even then she was cryptic about herself. _I like to go swimming _could mean I like to bait my friends and catch them off guard or I like to frolic in the surf with a friend or I'd like to jump in and forget to hold my breath or swim. He just wasn't sure and as always he was ready for anything.

"I hope you don't plan on jumping," John said looking over the edge again. "It's about 40 feet to the surface. It might hurt a bit."

"I was thinking more along the lines of skinny dipping," Kirstin replied with a sly grin on her face. "Later tonight."

"Alone?"

Kirstin took a deep breath and looked over at Sheppard, locking eyes for a second. The stare was intense and without even realizing it she leaned in and brushed her lips across his. He didn't hesitate to reciprocate. John ran his hand across the side of her face and pulled her closer to him. Kirstin's tongue danced across his as her lips hungrily fed on the emotion bubbling between them. In a second it was over and Kirstin pulled back gently never losing eye contact with him.

"What time is it?" she whispered breathlessly.

"Zero eight hundred," he answered. She had ignited something inside him that he hadn't felt in awhile. John watched her bite her lip and run her tongue across it unconsciously. _She's ….hot, _he thought.

"I gotta go," she said reluctantly. "My appointment is at zero eight thirty."

"And I have a flying lesson to get too," John said taking her hand and pulling her to a standing position with him.

"Flying lesson?" She looked at him with a confused expression on her face.

"On Hero," he added to help her understand. "With Commander Mayweather."

"Is Commander Ta…Doyle okay that?"

"Yes, I had a long discussion with him last night."

"Was that before or after he yelled at me for breaking protocol?"

"I believe it was after and you should know that I defended your actions," Sheppard remarked looking at her. "Then he gave me the five second warning."

"The wha?" Kirstin blurted out.

"The _I'm like a brother _and if you treat her with disrespect _I'll kick your ass _speech," Sheppard replied evenly.

"Oh geezus," Kirstin rolled her eyes and felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment. "He didn't really say that did he?"

"He did."

"Frak!" she mumbled shaking her head. "He's going to get his ass kicked. I don't care if he is an invalid right now or if he's spent the last eight months in a prison cell!" she growled with gritted teeth.

"Easy killer," Sheppard said reeling her in. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him in a mini-hug. "Nothing wrong with having someone to watch out for you."

"Anyone watch out for you?"

"Yeah. Ronon," he replied still walking with his arm around her shoulders. He didn't move it because it just felt right. "He gave me the _even though she's human, she's still an alien _speech. But I wouldn't dare try to kick his ass. He could probably smash me with him thumb if he really wanted too."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," she said laughing at her boldness. "I can take him."

John pulled his arm from around her and practically laughed in her face. "You think you can take Ronon?"

"You haven't seen me fight. Everyone has a weakness," she proclaimed defiantly.

"And this is coming from the woman who has made herself sick over a simple conversation with the base psychologist?"

Kirstin twisted her lips, knowing that he had a point. "Like I said, everyone has a weakness."

* * *

Dr. Heightmeyer sighed quietly in frustration and pushed her blondish red hair off her shoulder. _And to think I thought talking to Ronon was difficult! _Commander T'Pol had just made it clear, under no uncertain terms that she had no feelings or emotion good or bad over their situation. Kate found her statement a little difficult to swallow. She twisted her lips and tried another tactic with her patient. "What did you do before you were assigned this mission?" she asked hopefully leaning forward in her seat.

Heightmeyer eyed the woman sitting across from her. At first appearances, she looked human. The only differences were her ears tapered to a point and her skin had a green hue to it. Both could be camouflaged easily and to the casual observer nothing stood out that screamed _I'm an alien_! In fact, when she was brought into the Infirmary no one realized she was alien until she was scanned.

The imaging scan revealed a pleura of oddities which had Dr. Keller and her team completely stumped. The internal organs were the same as human, but held different anatomical positions within her body. Her blood was cooper based and had a green color to it when oxygenated. To complicate matters even more, she was carrying a child, which according to the scan, was partially human.

Besides her biological difference, what amazed Heightmeyer the most was the woman's presence. She always carried the same expression on her face, a cool blank stare regardless of the situation. That type demeanor would have its advantages in tactical situations, negotiations or even on ladies poker night. The woman's denial of any emotions about her situation was troubling. Every living thing Kate was familiar with displayed emotion at some point, even Ronon who tried to act like nothing bothered him.

"I was assigned to the Earth embassy on my planet as a Diplomatic Associate," T'Pol replied flatly. She sat on the sofa across from Heightmeyer with her legs crossed at the knee and her hands folded on her stomach.

"How long did you work there?"

"Two years."

"And your co-workers …. do you think they will miss you?" Kate asked still probing for an answer that gave some indication this woman was being realistic about her situation.

"Doubtful. I was TAD to Commander Reed's team for the mission."

"TAD?" Kate questioned.

"Temporary Duty Assignment," T'Pol explained enunciating each word. "It is a common military term."

"Oh, I...I know," she mumbled. "I was just checking if it meant the same thing in your century as ours," Heightmeyer said feeling the need to over explain. She noticed her patient didn't even flinch. "T'Pol, I find it hard to believe that your co-workers won't start to wonder what happened to you when you don't return from your assignment."

"Starfleet will list the ship and crew as Missing in Action. My colleagues with the appropriate security clearance will be briefed through the proper channels."

"Won't this Starfleet organization send a search party to look for you?"

"Unlikely," T'Pol replied without moving an inch. "Outside of Commander Reed only one other command level officer at Starfleet knew the complete details of our mission. Due to its classified nature, sending a search party would be illogical."

Kate nodded her head and pursed her lips. She was getting no where with this woman. All of her answers seemed scripted and logically planned out. "And what about your child's father?" She threw it on the table trying to elicit a response from the woman. "Will he have the proper clearance to learn of your fate?"

"The father of my child is dead," T'Pol said curtly.

The response caught Heightmeyer off guard. "Was he…?"

"No," T'Pol replied plainly. She inhaled sharply. "Will that be all? I have a breakfast meeting with Commander Doyle in five minutes."

"Yes," Kate said standing up. She clutched her tablet to her chest. "Thank you T'Pol."

"Doctor," the woman replied as she stood up. She inclined her head and walked out of the office.

Heightmeyer crumpled into her chair and stared blindly at the floor. _Thanks for what? _She looked over at the cactus plant that sat on her credenza. "That plant has more personality than Commander T'Pol," she mumbled to herself.

* * *

"Okay, let me get this straight," Sheppard remarked as he walked around the exterior of Hero with Lieutenant Alonso, the Engineering Specialist. "The ship has the ability to compress and expand automatically depending on the spatial conditions that surround it." He furrowed his brow trying to comprehend the concept.

"I know it sounds a little far-fetched Colonel," Lieutenant Dan Alonso replied with a low chuckle. The tall Hispanic male walked next to Colonel Sheppard with his hands clasped behind his back. "The main alloy used in the construction of the exterior hull has qualities that allow for changes in its molecular make up. The sensor array is constantly scanning the conditions around the ship and can make necessary adjustments to its circumference in micro-seconds."

"And that is how Hero, which is twice the size of a Jumper, could come through the gate and not cause any damage to the gate or itself," Sheppard said looking at the side of the ship. He ran his hand over the hull and tried to decide if the texture was different in density than the side of a Jumper or even the Daedalus. It wasn't. The metal … or whatever it was felt no different than any other space ship he had been on or the lower floors of Atlantis for that matter.

"Correct," Alonso answered. He walked to the port side airlock and keyed in his security code which opened the door and deployed a short ramp allowing access to the ship.

"So when you're inside the ship and it … compresses… can you tell?" Sheppard asked Alonso with a perplexed expression on his face. During his time on Atlantis Sheppard had seen some strange things but this ship called Hero took the cake. Food materialized out of thin air, you could take a shower without getting wet, a medical scanner could guide you through complex surgery and with a device that reminded him of a cell phone you could talk to a teammate or transport yourself across the city, to the ship and into an air bubble in space. _Although I have no clue why anyone would ever want to do that, _Sheppard reflected. In any event, Sheppard had no doubt that what he had learned about Hero barely tipped the technological advances scale.

"The internal distortion is minimal," Alonso replied.

_Internal distortion? _Sheppard thought walking to the ramp. _McKay and Zelenka would have a field day chatting with this guy. _John started up the ramp and was half way through the airlock before he realized the Engineer was still talking.

"….as we ascend from the Jumper Bay," Alonso remarked following him in the ship. Once they were clear of the airlock, Alonso stepped to the wall terminal and quickly tapped the keyboard. The airlock sealed behind them and the lighting in the hallway turned on. "Commander Mayweather is waiting for you on the bridge Colonel," Alonso replied. "The turbolift is down the hallway to the right."

* * *

"You're late," T'Pol remarked coolly as she watched Commander Tucker sit down. "I almost thought you were standing me up."

"Have I ever stood you up?" Trip asked her as he settled down at the table.

"I said almost," she said looking over at his tray. "What are you eating?" she question when she couldn't identify the object on his plate.

"Oh, this?" Trip said pointing down to the square concoction on the tray. "Is quiche, I think. At least that's what somebody told me when I went through the line." He looked at her tray which contained only a small bowl of oatmeal. "Oatmeal again?"

"I never thought I'd admit it but replicated ploomek broth would be better than this," T'Pol grumbled pushing the tray away. "Now that you've decided to share technology with Atlantis, I suggest you install a protein re-sequencer in their galley, immediately."

Trip looked at her in surprise. "I see you haven't lost your sense of humor," he said taking a bite of the mystery square. He chewed in silence and swallowed. "Well, for a mystery square it's not bad. You might even like it."

"It's made of eggs," she replied watching him eat.

"I'm sure they're not real," he assured her. "You see any chickens around here?"

"Ha, ha."

"Wow, you're feisty this morning. What's got into you?"

"I just left Doctor Heightmeyer's office," T'Pol replied bristling enough to get Tucker's attention.

"You're acting like she has the plague," Trip said before sticking another forkful of egg mixture in his mouth. "My conversation with her yesterday went fine."

"She didn't ask you repeatedly how you felt about our situation?" T'Pol questioned him.

"No," he replied slowly. "I take it she asked you?"

T'Pol sighed. "After she mangled my name twice, she asked me how I felt about our situation ten times."

"I hope you were polite," Trip replied picking up his coffee cup.

"I told her the truth," T'Pol said flatly.

"Oh geezus," Trip muttered rolling his eyes. "You couldn't even lie about it a little? I'm sure she's never been around a humanoid with suppressed emotions before, she's probably freaking out."

"I didn't see the point," T'Pol answered him.

"The point of all this is that we are given clearance to go to Earth or become part of this group!" Trip exclaimed. He realized he was too loud again when he heard his voice echo off the wall. He glanced around at the other tables and noticed a few heads turned in their direction. "You honestly have no emotion about being stuck here?"

"I do not," she said picking up her cup and taking a sip of tea.

"Not even about being separated from your mate?" T'Pol looked across the table at her sharply.

"I do not have a mate."

"The father of your child then?" Trip growled getting frustrated with her.

"He's dead," T'Pol replied darting her eyes away from him.

"What?" Trip gasped practically choking on his coffee. "He's dead?"

"He was killed in an accident shortly after …."

Her voice trailed off, but Trip knew where she was going with it. The news shocked him. The pon farr was a very intimate time for her people. To lose her mate shortly afterward and then to find out she was pregnant must have been devastating for her. _Well, it would be for a human, _Trip thought taking a sip of his coffee. "Wow, T'Pol. I'm sorry," he muttered.

"While I appreciate your concern, there is nothing to apologize for," she said. "It was an accident. There was nothing anyone could do," T'Pol replied. "I've selected Major Mackenzie as my child's god parent."

"Mackenzie? I didn't know you two were close," Tucker said eating the last of the food on his plate.

"I wrote a letter of recommendation for her to attend Officer Candidate School and over the past six years we've kept in touch," T'Pol explained. "Will that be a problem for you?"

"Ah no," Trip replied looking over at her. "I've always liked Kirstin, she reminds me of Lizzie. She'll probably have Junior doing math problems before he's out of diapers," Trip chuckled.

"Speaking of which, did you get into an argument with her yesterday?" T'Pol asked him, attempting to get his side of the story.

Trip looked across the table and slowly trailed his gaze toward her. "We had a discussion," Trip replied taking a bite of his toast.

"Did you threaten her with a court-martial?"

"I hardly threatened her," Trip replied rolling his eyes. He tossed the toast on the tray.

"Trip?" T'Pol called to him when she realized he was avoiding eye contact with her.

"All I did was remind her that a protocol breech could result in a court martial in our timeline."

"I'd hardly classify giving Colonel Sheppard a tour of the ship a breech of protocol," T'Pol remarked flatly.

"I got the impression that it was more than a regular tour," Trip retorted. "He was in her quarters for kricesakes!"

_Are you upset that she gave him the tour or that he was in her quarters? , _T'Pol replied to him through their bond. It caught Trip completely off guard and he snapped his head back in her direction.

"Well, I'll be …I didn't think we could still do that," Trip mumbled in disbelief.

"I wasn't sure if it would work," T'Pol remarked slowly. _Now that it does, I suspect the real reason you're upset has nothing to do with the tour at all, _T'Pol commented quietly. _Perhaps you are making up for not being able to protect someone else?_

Trip pursed his lips, but said nothing about her observation. He didn't think a word about it either for fear she would bust him on it. He coughed nervously. "Have you decided on a name for Junior yet?" he asked changing the subject. "Cuz you know, Charles is a nice name," he added winking at her with a sly grin on his face.

T'Pol looked at Trip and arched her brow inquisitively. After a second she leaned toward him at the table. "Speaking of Charles, have you made a decision on what name you are going to live with for the rest of your life?"

Trip sighed heavily. "Ah, no … I discussed it with Colonel Sheppard last night. It's a little more complicated than just settling on one name or another."

"How so?"

"Have you looked at Charles Tucker's service record in our data banks?" Trip asked her taking a drink of his coffee. "He's dead. When I became Logan Doyle, Starfleet changed everything about me, my retinal scan, my birth date, even my finger print. It's probably going to be a lot easier for the IOA and the Air Force to accept me if I remain Logan Doyle than if I try to become Charles Tucker again."

"Is that what you want?" T'Pol asked him quietly.

"New world, new lives …" Trip muttered shrugging his shoulders. "Since we're starting over I guess it would be okay. The people that matter most to me know who I really am anyway."

T'Pol nodded and looked down at the table. "I've decided to name my son Jonathan, for Admiral Archer," she said quietly. "He was a close friend."

"I'll grant you that," Trip replied inclining his head in respect to his friend.

* * *

"You have no idea how much I want to take this thing around the block to see what it really has under the hood!" Sheppard muttered under his breath as he navigated Hero around the fourth moon in a sling shot maneuver.

"Oh, I don't have to imagine," Mayweather replied from the tactical station to the Colonel's side. "I was the same way a month ago when I was assigned to the mission."

"What's the top speed again?"

"Normal speed or in the Vortex?"

"Normal."

"Seven hundred billon kilometers which, in my timeline is commonly referred to as Warp Seven," Travis laughed.

"Billion kilometers," Sheppard commented under his breath.

"Well, don't get too excited. It would take about three thousand years to get back to Earth at warp seven," Mayweather remarked.

"That's faster than a Jumper at least," Sheppard said. "What about hyperspace or the vortex as you call it?" he asked looking over at Mayweather

"I've never flown Hero in that mode, so I can't answer," Travis replied. "I flew a two man version underwater."

"Two man version?" Sheppard muttered. He looked around the room. "Was it bigger than my quarters?"

"No, it wasn't even bigger than a closet. Commander Tuc ah..Doyle and I barely fit in it," Mayweather said stammering over Trip's cover name. _Am I ever going to get use to calling him something different? _he thought. "Top speed was warp one."

Silence fell across the bridge as Sheppard brought the ship around and headed back to Atlantis. When they were skimming across the ocean surface he looked over to Mayweather. "Hey Instructor, how am I doing?"

"As my father would say, you're a natural stick and rudder man," Travis answered.

"Want to take the helm to take it back to the underwater bay?" Sheppard asked as his hands fly over the console adjusting their heading.

"Didn't you fly it down there the first time?"

"No, Major Mackenzie sat in the pilot seat," Sheppard replied.

"Major Mackenzie?" Travis questioned with a surprised expression on his face. "Did she hit anything?"

"No," Sheppard said looking over at Mayweather. "You know, that's the second time someone from your crew has commented on her flying abilities, so what's the joke?"

"Well, suffice it to say that she used to be a little inept in the driver's seat," Travis said chuckling at the memory. "I'm sure she's better now. Flight is a required course at OCS."

"Go on," Sheppard replied waiting for the rest of the story.

"When I first met her, she was a Corporal. The Captain of our ship decided the assault team should have some basic piloting skills, so I was assigned to teach them. She passed the simulations fine, but when she actually got behind the wheel it was a different story," Travis shook his head as the memory replayed in his mind. "On that class of ship, the pods dropped from the launch bay on an arm. Her first time out she got the pod jammed diagonally in the launch doors. The next couple of times, she hit everything, the other pod, the ship, the launch arm and even crashed landed on an asteroid. Needless to say, she was never asked to fly anything."

John laughed at the imaginary and suddenly understood her apprehension when he asked her if she could fly Hero. _Add that to the list of the things I've learned about her today, she's a terror behind the wheel, she has a confidence problem, worries enough to makes herself sick and she's one hell of a kisser, he_ thought turning back to the controls.

* * *

"I'm not upset about it. What little I had to go back to isn't enough to make me miss anything," Kirstin said as she stood in front of the window.

"Okay," replied Heightmeyer. _Here we go again, _she thought as she tried to figure out what to ask next. "What do you mean by that?"

Kirstin sighed and ran her fingers through her semi wet hair and shook out the ends. After her morning jog with Colonel Sheppard she barely had enough time to take a quick rinse shower before her appointment and was letting her hair air dry. "Well, all I have left there is my cat, Wrigley," she said shrugging her shoulders. "And a friend of the Admiral's is watching him for me."

Kate noticed a hint of sadness in Mackenzie's face when she mentioned the Admiral. It was the first break in the Major's demeanor in the last thirty minutes and Heightmeyer pounced on it. "The Admiral? Is he or she close to you?"

"He was," Kirstin said blinking tears out of her eyes. She walked across the small room and crumpled into the sofa chair. "Admiral Archer. He was the captain of the first starship I served on. He recommended me for Officer Candidate School and after graduation when I was Second Lieutenant I worked on his staff for a year. We got really close. He was like a father to me or an uncle. I don't have any family … he was all I had left."

"Aren't you going to miss him?" Kate asked taking notes on her tablet as Mackenzie talked.

"I do miss him. I think about him everyday," Kirstin said sniffling. "But going back there isn't going to change anything."

Heightmeyer looked up at the Major with a perplexed expression on her face. "I don't understand," she muttered.

"He's dead. He died a couple of months ago in a stupid accident. He was hit by a car while crossing the street," Kirstin said staring at the floor. "I had just returned to active duty when Commander Reed called up my team for this mission."

"Ah," Kate mumbled jotting down a note, trying to connect the dots that linked this small crew. "You're not homesick? Not even a little?"

"Not as long as the ship is docked in the Jumper bay," Kirstin replied. "I've been in space for most of the last seven years. The ship is my home and my family is the crew."

* * *

Colonel Sheppard stood next to Dr. McKay in the physics lap and read the computer screen over Rodney's shoulder.

"Do you mind?" McKay growled turning his head slightly. "You're in my space."

"Since when are you worried about personal space?" Sheppard asked not moving an inch.

"Since you interrupted my lunch by asking me to proofread your report!" Rodney snapped. "You know there is such a thing as spell check!"

"I spell checked it," John said finally stepping back. "I'm not asking you to re-write it, I just need to you smooth over the rough spots. I don't want the IOA thinking I'm illiterate!" He laced his fingers behind his neck and paced around the lab.

"Don't worry, I'll make it all pretty for you," Rodney said as he scanned the screen in front of him.

"Colonel Sheppard?" squawked Chuck's voice over the radio.

"Go ahead."

"Dr. Heightmeyer would like to see you in her office."

Sheppard looked at his watch and sighed. It was eleven thirty. He didn't have time for distractions. His evaluation on Hero and the crew was due to the IOA by thirteen hundred. "Err, tell her I'm on my way," he replied slowly.

"Will you just go already?" McKay said watching Sheppard stand in front of him with that confused expression on his face. "I promise the report will be done when you get back."

"You wanted to see me?" Sheppard asked Dr. Heightmeyer as he walked into her office.

"Yes, have a seat," she said pointing at the sofa. Heightmeyer noticed the pained expression on his face and smiled. "I'm almost finished with my report and I wanted to compare notes.

"Okay," John said relaxing slightly. "Something come up in your evaluations?"

"A reoccurring theme," she said with a smirk. "I'm concerned. None of the ten seemed upset or remorseful about being stranded here. It seems a little odd to me."

"I don't think it's anything to be worried about Kate. I've spoken to all of them and they seemed to be dealing with the situation the best they can."

"By not saying or feeling anything?"

"They're military officers. They're attached to an elite division of their military which is comparable to our Special Forces." Sheppard explained to her leaning forward. "They've had specialized training to deal with obstacles related to their mission. While I'm sure no one ever considered this exact scenario into their training, they understand what they are up against. The success rate of any of their missions is only fifty percent."

"Fifty percent? Those aren't good odds," Kate remarked processing the information.

"Well, considering ten out of twelve survived and they weren't captured by their enemy, the odds are in their favor."

"But they can't go home," she reminded him. "Although most said they had nothing to go back too."

"A common characteristic of Special Forces," John replied. "If there isn't anyone waiting at home, the operative is less likely to compromise the mission."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning if captured, the bad guys can't jack with their minds," he replied. He looked up and noticed a hint of confusion on her face. "Look, I'm sure they are all thinking about their circumstances and dealing with it in their own way," he remarked trying to downplay his earlier comment.

"Except Commander T'Pol," Heightmeyer interjected.

"What about her?"

"She told me that her species doesn't have emotions," Kate growled.

Sheppard chucked. "I was warned about her. Her species suppresses emotion or something," he said. "You just have to learn to read eyebrows," he added pointing at his forehead.

"Eyebrows?" Heightmeyer chuckled nervously. "That wasn't really covered at school."

"You didn't take Body Language one oh one?" Sheppard asked with a chuckle. He watched the psychologist carefully. "I sense you're getting a little frustrated."

Heightmeyer paused a moment before answering. She stood from her chair and paced around the small room. "I guess I am. It's just weird Colonel, all ten told me the same thing: _I have nothing to go home to, I'm not going to miss anyone, no one will even realize I'm gone._ All of them, even Commander Mayweather who has a three year old daughter!"

The Colonel sighed and sat back on the sofa. "Look Kate, you have to stop comparing Hero's crew to the military on Atlantis because they aren't the same. Hero was on a classified mission and it doesn't matter that they have crashed landed in the past or even in an alternate reality. They're still living within the bounds of their directive…."

"This Expedition is classified," Kate interrupted looking over at him. "I have security clearance."

"Kate … Thirty days ago when Hero left on its mission there was eleven crew members on board. Commander Reed had the complete details of their mission and he was killed when they entered the anomaly. Mayweather was given a map, a set of coordinates and a directive to get there in one piece and then get the hell out. The strike team's information was need to know only. The three crew members assigned to Hero, Alonso, Conroy and Yi, were there to maintain the ship's system and provide security backup, nothing more. Now for all intensive purposes, Commander Doyle is the ship's captain, and he doesn't know anything about the mission other than they busted him out of a POW camp," Sheppard remarked frankly.

"You got all of that in just a few days?"

"Eh, that and a little more," Sheppard shrugged. "My point is, if you are looking for more information about what happened to them you aren't going to get it because," he paused and chuckled. "They don't know. You need to be satisfied with the face value."

Kate pursed her lips and walked to her desk. "What are you recommending to the IOA?"

"In a nut shell? That the crew be absorbed into our military structure. Earth is still home to most of them, even it is a different century," Sheppard replied standing up. "And yours?

She trailed her finger along the edge of the desk. "My evaluations will compliment your recommendations," she said hesitantly.

"That's your honest evaluation?" Sheppard asked. "Don't go sugar-coating it on my account."

"No, I won't…I didn't. I just need to add my final notes. I'll send it to you on email within the hour. And based on our conversation, General Landry won't even bat an eye at it," Kate remarked crossing her arms at her chest. "Thank you Colonel."

* * *

Major Kirstin Mackenzie walked slowly along the pier soaking up the sun and the fresh air, oblivious to what was going on around her. Her thoughts were a million miles away. Her mind had been on overdrive since her session with Dr. Heightmeyer earlier today. Whether she wanted to admit it to the base psychologist or not she was starting to feel _weird_. She had nothing to do and even though it had only been a couple of days it was starting to really bother her. After the session she tried to work off her nervous energy in the fitness center and while it was physically satisfying, it did nothing to rid her of the gnawing feeling that burned in the pit of her stomach. Kirstin knew symptoms all too well. A panic attack was brewing and she needed to do something about it before it got out of hand.

Kirstin headed toward the edge of the walk and sat down, dangling her legs over the side. She laid back on the warm deck plating and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and employed the meditation techniques T'Pol had taught her to calm her frazzled nerves. As she cleared the layers of static and interference, she found the comforting memory of her morning run with Sheppard. The emotion of their kiss bubbled inside her as she relaxed into the imagery. _Oh yeah, that was nice, _she thought as she concentrated on his musky scent, his strong comforting touch, and the surprising tenderness of his lips.

"Major Mackenzie?"

_Frick! Stranded on a floating city in the middle of nowhere and I can't even have a second to myself! _Kirstin mumbled in her head as she slowly opened one eye and focused on the female face looking down at her. It was Teyla, her silent nemesis, the last person that she would want to encounter while she was enjoying her fantasy about Colonel Sheppard. She still wasn't convinced that Teyla wasn't involved with John, as they were far to close for her liking. Kirstin took a deep breath and put on her friendly face. "Teyla," she greeted the woman as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Teyla apologized.

"It's okay," Kirstin mumbled. "I was just … relaxing." Mackenzie eyed the woman suspiciously. She had seen Teyla sparing with several members of the Atlantis team and admired her strength. Kirstin compared Teyla with a Klingon woman she had battled with while serving on Endeavor. While Teyla was no one you'd want to meet in a dark alley, Kirstin thought she could outwit her, especially if the reward was Colonel Sheppard. "Did you want something?" Kirstin asked dropping the small talk act.

"I'm going to see my people on New Athos today and I was wondering if you would be interested in going along?" Teyla suggested dropping down on one knee to be at Kirstin's level.

"Why…wha?" Kirstin stammered as she tried to figure out something to say.

"Trip…Commander Doyle told me that you use to be a teacher," Teyla explained when she saw the confused expression on the Major's face. "There are many children among my people that could benefit from your knowledge." Teyla studied Kirstin's face for a moment. "Would you be interested?"

Kirstin chewed on her lip and thought about the offer. _Like I have anything better to do? _She let the idea swim around in her head as she pondered the alternatives. Kirstin always enjoyed the challenge of enticing youngsters to embrace math and science. She longed for the day when things were less complicated and she could go back to it. Had those days finally arrived? "Yeah," she heard her voice in her ear before she felt her mouth move. "I'd like that," she added reaffirming it aloud.

"Great!" Teyla said nodding her head. "I'll be leaving at fourteen hundred. I'll meet you in the gate room?"

"Yeah …. okay," Kirstin mumbled slowly. "I'll see you there," she added, suddenly feeling the knot resurfacing in her stomach. "Ah … what should I wear?"

Teyla smiled warmly. "What you have on is fine," she said reassuringly. "And don't be nervous. My people are very welcoming."

* * *

"You're going where? And for what reason?" Dr. McKay growled across his lab at Major Mackenzie. She had entered the lab a few minutes earlier to speak to Commander T'Pol who was working on a project with him. The two were speaking quietly in the corner, but not so quietly that he couldn't hear every word they said.

Mackenzie looked at T'Pol and trailed her eyes slowly in McKay's direction. "Excuse me? I don't believe you were invited into our conversation," she scowled, letting her anxiety get the best of her.

"I was invited into your conversation the minute you stepped into my lab and started talking to your friend over there," McKay retorted firmly.

"Well, thank you for your input but you can butt out now," Mac replied turning away from him. She looked at T'Pol and caught the tail end of an eyebrow raise.

"I saw that!" McKay exclaimed waving his index finger in T'Pol's direction.

"Saw what?" T'Pol asked without looking at him.

"That eyebrow thing you do! For someone who claims to have no emotion, you…you don't hide it very well," McKay rambled on. "I'm on to you."

"I have never claimed to not have emotion," T'Pol replied dryly turning her head slowly in his direction. "I suppress my emotions with meditation and logic."

"Which is something you should try," Kirstin blurted out, interrupting the Commander. "It might be helpful to reign in your eating habits."

"There is nothing wrong with my eating habits," Rodney replied defensively. "I have a high metabolism!" He picked up his coffee cup and drained the liquid into his mouth.

Kirstin watched him with an amused expression on her face. "I wonder what would happen if you were unable to have a cup a coffee for a whole entire day?"

T'Pol tilted her head slightly and cast her eyes back on her computer table. "That is a nightmare I would not like to envision."

Kirstin burst into laughter at the comment and watched McKay's expression turn from defensiveness to anger.

"Ha ha … you're so funny," Rodney muttered indignantly. "Just wait til you get over to New Athos … Miss High-Tech!"

"Excuse me? You sound like a fifth grader … just wait and see? What's that supposed to mean?" Kirstin taunted him.

"I'm merely making the point that New Athos isn't the high tech gizmo world that you're used too," Rodney said slowly. "They kill animals for food over there! They don't have machines that can whip together an entire meal out of thin air."

"And your point?" Kirstin growled getting completely ticked off at him. "I can survive in a primitive environment you know! It's called camping!"

"Right, like camping a hundred and sixty years from now is going to be remotely like it is in this timeline!" Rodney yelled back at her

"Like you're the expert? I know you're type McKay…hypochondria-fraidie cat! Scared of bugs, bees, mice, ghosts! Outside of staying at an Econo-lodge you've probably never been camping … so how the hell would you know?"

"Na, na, na. I'll have you know that I have been camping. My parents took my sister and I camping when we were kids in their motor home."

"A motor home?"

"Yes! Its similar to a motel room on…."

"I know what it is!" Kirstin interrupted him. The decibel level of their conversation had risen to the _'bouncing off the wall'_ scale. "That is hardly what I would call camping! Camping is sleeping in a tent under the stars. Cooking meals over a hot fire! Not sleeping in an air conditioned bus or sticking a TV dinners into the what'd'ya call it mini-ovens!"

"That's microwave oven, Miss Gadget Girl!" And while we are on the topic I am not afraid of ghosts! I completely believe in the paranormal!"

"Oh, because that makes a lot of sense Mr. Astrophysicist!" Kirstin fired back at him, wheezing for a breath. Her lack of oxygen didn't slow her down. She walked to confront him face to face. "How logical is that?"

"Logic? You want to talk logic!" McKay yelled at her, not backing down. "How logical is it that someone with two PhD's wants to waste her life being a gun jockey for the Marines? Huh! Talk about a waste of a perfectly good brain!"

T'Pol took a deep breath and set down the PADD she was working on. She had had enough. The seemingly harmless banter between the two had spiraled out of control in a matter of micro-seconds. Their voices were echoing off the walls of the lab and T'Pol was sure they could be heard in the down the hall. She assessed the situation quickly. The Commander had noted Mackenzie was in the early stages of a panic attack when she had first entered the lab, but had contributed to her anxiousness about her first off-world trip. The symptoms were full blown now, Kirstin's voice was raspy and her face flushed, not from anger either.

T'Pol was certain she could control the Major with a single command and put an end to her bickering, but McKay was another story. She would have to be more delicate with him.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Chuck yelled from the Control Room. He looked up as Sheppard approached him. "Security has reported a verbal altercation coming from McKay's lab."

"What?" Sheppard guffawed and activated his radio. "McKay? Come in!" When there was no answer he took off on a dead run for the lab.

Sheppard was barely out of breath from his dash down the stairs. He definitely could hear the shouting as he slid down the railing of the last flight. _McKay and who? A female? Katie Brown gone mad? _he thought running the final length of the hallway. The shouting came to an abrupt end as he rounded the corner. He had his answer as to who was involved the minute he crossed the threshold.

_Crap! _he thought as he scanned the room. Major Mackenzie was standing to one side, her arms crossed at her chest and face flushed with what Sheppard could only sum up as defiant anger. He had seen that look before, the night she had shuttled him to Hero with her communication device. He recognized her labored breathing as a symptom of her panic attacks. Commander T'Pol was leaning over Dr. McKay, who was lying on the floor, flat on his back. Based on Kirstin's demeanor, it was fairly obvious how Rodney got there.

"What happened?" Sheppard said sharply glancing at Kirstin and the over to T'Pol. He barely let either answer before he barked into the radio. "Medical team to McKay's lab immediately."

"He fainted," Kirstin said wheezing heavily. "Food or oxygen deprivation, take your pick," she added shrugging her shoulders.

Sheppard darted his eyes from Kirstin to the Commander. "Why do I get the impression that's not really what happened?" he asked walking across the room and pulling a stool out for Kirstin to sit down. "Is he okay?" he asked T'Pol as he ordered Mackenzie to sit by pointing his finger at the stool.

"He's fine," T'Pol said looking up at Sheppard. "He may have some tenderness in his neck when he awakes, but there are no other apparent injuries."

"Major?" Sheppard prompted Kirstin for an answer.

"I told you, he fainted," she muttered sitting down on the stool.

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

"You think that I hit him?" she asked angrily.

"It's lookin that way," Sheppard replied curtly. "He's unconscious and you're storming around with steam coming out of your ears."

"I didn't hit him, I could only wish!" she retorted loudly.

"Major Mackenzie did not hit Dr. McKay," T'Pol concurred. She moved out of the way as the medical team rushed in the room. "As for the argument, they both were the antagonist." Major Mackenzie jumped off the stool and made an attempt to walk to McKay's side of the lab in response to T'Pol comments.

"Ah, ah, ah….where are you going?" Sheppard asked as he snagged her arm. Mackenzie made one feeble attempt to break free from his grasp and then let him direct her back to the stool. "So what started all of this?" he asked as a medic walked over to Mackenzie and scanned her with a medical tricorder.

"Who started it should be the question," Mackenzie replied with a raspy voice. "I came in here to tell T'Pol that Teyla had invited me to go to New Athos with her this afternoon and then he butted into the conversation." The medic handed Mackenzie an oxygen mask and then pushed her hand to her face, to cover her mouth and nose.

"Oh, what happened?" Rodney mumbled from across the room as he started to wake up. "Ow! My neck!" he cried out when he tried to move his head. He looked across the room, pushing the medic's hand out of his face.

Mackenzie pulled the mask away from her face. "You fainted you lard ass!" she yelled at him from across the room.

Sheppard grabbed the oxygen mask and held it against her face to keep her mouth shut. He kept a firm grasp on her shoulder to deter her from darting off the stool again. "Get him outta here," he said to the lead medic standing at McKay's feet.

"Oh sure, Sheppard! Defend the girl!" McKay remarked as the medics loaded him on the gurney. "This is my lab! She should be the one that leaves."

"I'm not defending anyone," the Colonel remarked. "But if you'd like, I'll turn her loose and let you two duke it out again."

McKay trailed his eyes from Mackenzie to Sheppard to T'Pol and back to Mackenzie again. He could see her gloating even behind the oxygen mask. "We weren't duking it out. One minute I was working quietly minding my own business and then next minute she was attacking me. Unprovoked I might add!"

Kirstin pushed Sheppard's hand away and pulled her head back from his reach. "I'd hardly call it unprovoked!" Her tone was still loud, but the decibel was more to a conversational level, even her breathing had begun to even out.

"Oh, so you admit to hitting me!"

Kirstin squirmed out Sheppard's grasp and jumped off the stool again. He snagged her arm before she could lunge toward McKay. "I never hit you!" she said slowly enunciated each word. "I wasn't even close to you. I never left this side of the lab! I swear!"

"Then how?" Rodney questioned as he looked blindly at the floor.

"You fainted!" Kirstin said firmly sharing a quick glance in T'Pol's direction. "You were yelling at me about some nonsense and then you fell out. Your neck probably hurts because you bounced off the table before you hit the floor," Kirstin said plainly crossing her arms at her chest.

"I fainted?" McKay questioned finally playing into the ruse. "Oh, I think I'm feeling feverish," he mumbled lying back against the gurney.

"Yeah, you're feverish all right," Sheppard mumbled as he watched the technicians wheel McKay out of the room.

"She should be checked by Dr. Keller …" the lead medic started to say as John waved him off.

"I'll bring her up in a few minutes," Sheppard replied. Once the medics and the security detail cleared the room he turned to face both T'Pol and Mackenzie. "Okay, I may just be a simple human, but I'm pretty good at reading people. I caught the little glances between the two of you. It's pretty clear that McKay didn't just faint as you insist," Sheppard commented firmly. He rested his hands on his hips. "Why don't you tell me what really happened?"

"I incapacitated him with a Vulcan Nerve Pinch," T'Pol said flatly.

"A what?"

"It's a technique used by T'Pol's people to render an attacker unconscious for short periods of time," Kirstin explained. She tapped her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Like how?" Sheppard questioned tilting his head. "I don't understand."

"I'll demonstrate," T'Pol said flatly. She reached for Mackenzie's shoulder and applied pressure to a point at the base of her neck. Kirstin slumped in Sheppard's arms before she knew what hit her.

"Whoa!" Sheppard exclaimed as he lowered Kirstin to the floor. "That's … wow," Sheppard mumbled looking up at T'Pol. "Does it always work that quickly?"

"On most humanoids, yes."

"And how long are they…?" he asked waving his hand in the air.

"Generally the target is unconscious for a few minutes, although it varies from person to person. It does not damage the victim and the only lasting effect is slight bruising of their sternocleidomastiod."

Sheppard nodded his head. _Lucky that I know my anatomy, _he thought checking Kirstin's pulse to reassure himself that she was okay. "Why McKay and not Kirstin?"

"I knew I could order the Major to stand down and she would comply without argument. McKay, however, would be a different story," T'Pol replied arching a brow in his direction. "He does have a tendency to ramble."

"That's an understatement," John replied scooping Kirstin's limp body into his arms. "Let's get her to the infirmary," he grunted as he picked Mackenzie up and stood with her in his arms. He headed out the door with Commander T'Pol following right behind him.

* * *

The laughter reverberated through the atrium and down the walkway of the second level drawing smiles from the overnight crew of the expedition team as they worked. Colonel Sheppard stepped quietly to the railing and looked down at the group responsible for the ruckus. He found Commander Doyle, Commander Mayweather, Major Mackenzie and most of the Hero crew relaxing in the mess hall at a table near the balcony.

John stepped back into the shadows leaning against a support pillar. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched against the cool stone on his back. Sheppard could clearly see her from his position. He watched her interaction with her team, the way her laughter lit up her face, how beautiful she was as a smile danced across her features. Kirstin touched something inside…ignited a passion within him he had thought was long buried.

He closed his eyes and listened closely to the voices, trying to isolate one from the static. His military training had honed his concentration, but his heart jumbled his mind. It amazed him how she cluttered his thoughts. From the time he opened his eyes in the morning until the end of the day, he was thinking of Kirstin. He had butterflies in his stomach when he saw her. Sheppard was a warrior that had faced many opponents and had done so fearlessly. Meeting Mackenzie in battle, whether that was an argument over her access, the innocent encounter somewhere on the base, or an intimate moment between them, knocked him off his game. Tomorrow eight of the Hero crew would leave Atlantis to meet with the IOA, General Landry and other military officials for debriefing and assignment. Knowing that Kirstin was one of those making the trip frightened the crap out of him.

"You could go down and join them."

The voice caught Sheppard off-guard but he didn't flinch. There was another example of how his concentration was out of whack, normally Teyla would never have been able to sneak up on him. He opened his eyes and looked to the side to at her standing within arms reach of him. "It's not my place," he muttered.

"You don't think she'd want to spend her last night here with you?" Teyla asked him softly.

John turned and held her gaze in silence for a moment. "I'm trying to stay optimistic that after she meets with the IOA board she'll decide to return," he replied finally. He watched a sly grin crawl across Teyla's face. "What?"

"You're quite taken with her," she surmised with an approving smile.

"She's friendly," he remarked. "Smart."

"Beautiful," Teyla added.

Sheppard exhaled slowly as an image of Kirstin fluttered through his head. "Not that I was looking," he replied smugly.

"Since when?" Teyla joked with him.

"I was checking our defensive perimeter," he replied defensively. He pushed himself off the pillar and started to walk with Teyla down the walkway.

"Uh huh," Teyla replied nodding her head. "Well, I don't believe you need to worry that she'll stay on Earth."

"What'd'ya mean?" John questioned.

"When she was with me today on New Athos, Halling was quite intrigued that she was a teacher and asked if she would be interested in tutoring some of the children," Teyla explained. "She seemed very interested and on our way back to the gate she said she was going to discuss it with you."

"Hmmp," he grumbled mulling the idea over in his head. "She never said anything to me about it …. But I haven't exactly seen here since you've been back." He tried to shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.

Teyla stopped walking and touched his arm. "John, I've never seen you like this," she remarked looking his dead in the eye.

"What?"

"You're smitten with her," she said smiling broadly.

"No."

"Yes, you are," Teyla said nodding her head. "Admit it."

Sheppard slumped in his stance, "Okay, maybe a little," he remarked sheepishly. "I've never … met anyone like her. She's smart, cunning, athletic, beautiful," he stopped and watched Teyla nod in agreement. Sheppard cast his eyes over the Athosian woman and contemplated what he had just said. "Okay, I take that back. I have met someone like her," he mumbled looking away.

"I don't understand," Teyla mumbled with a perplexed scowl on her forehead.

"She reminds me of you," he said with a chuckle. "That's probably why she feels threatened by you."

"What? She's threatened by me?" Teyla stammered in shock.

"Well, McKay told her that we…" Sheppard explained waving his hand back and forth between them. "Were dating," he finished. His throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls and he was suddenly very uncomfortable having this conversation with her. It didn't exactly make sense to him at first. They had been friends since the beginning. Now that he was verbalizing his interest in Kirstin he realized Teyla had once evoked these same feelings within. _Or maybe she still does and I'm just an idiot, _he thought as he heard her voice continue to question McKay's motivates.

"Why did he do that?"

"Because he was trying to hit on her and could tell that she was…," John stopped talking and shrugged his shoulders.

"Interested in you?" Teyla remarked finishing the sentence. She looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow and an expression that said _told you so._

"Yeah, well," John stammered trying to downplay his interest. "I guess that remains to be seen."

"You honestly think she'll stay on Earth?" Teyla asked.

"One thing I've learned about Kirstin these past few days is that she's a little unpredictable," Sheppard said starting to walk again. "You never can be too sure about what she's thinking. She might get back there and decide that a twentieth century earth is worth exploring." He shrugged trying to downplay it. "You gotta admit, Earth is a lot more exciting gadget wise that the entire Pegasus Galaxy."

"I think Kirstin is more interested in lasting relationships than gadgets," Teyla reminded him gently. "She's suffered through much loss these past few months. She is searching for something or someone solid to hold on to."

"Even it's a floating city in the middle of nowhere?" Sheppard asked as they approached a transporter. He stopped walking and turned to look at her.

"Especially if the anchor is intact," Teyla said softly. She smiled warmly and left him to his thoughts as he stepped into the transporter.

Two hours later Sheppard stood nervously outside of Major Mackenzie's quarters contemplating whether or not he should ring the bell. It wasn't the first time he had hesitated outside a woman's door on Atlantis and just standing here gave him the sensation of déjà vu. Years ago he had stood outside of Teyla's door under this same premise. _And I walked away, _he mused closing his eyes. _Look where that got me,_ he reminded himself as he heard a door just a few steps away open.

"Colonel Sheppard," a female voice greeted him.

"Lieutenant Alvarez," he replied looking over at her. He made a quick assessment about the woman as she walked toward him. All the women on Hero had the same deadly ingredients, brains, beauty and confidence. Alvarez's Latin American origin, her shoulder length brown hair and muscular physic gave her that centerfold appeal. Like Mackenzie, she had the brains to complete the package as she had earned a degree in Physics while enlisted in the Marines. After graduation she had applied to Officer Candidate School and was hand picked by Reed to compliment the Strike Team. He noticed a gym bag in her hand. "Off to the gym?" he asked making small talk,

"Just burning off a little nervous energy sir," she replied.

"Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about?"

"I know I shouldn't be, but going to Earth tomorrow through the gate is making me…" she mumbled looking away from him in embarrassment.

"I'd have to say the first time I went through it I was a little _unsettled _myself," Sheppard replied reassuringly. After a moment of awkward silence he cleared his throat. "Have you seen…." he asked pointing at Mackenzie's door.

"I saw her about thirty minutes ago," the woman remarked. "She said something about going to for a swim." She walked passed him as she spoke.

John turned around and backed against the wall. "Thanks," he muttered under his breath as he watched her pass. _I should have guessed, _he thought as he followed Alvarez out of the housing area. It took him fifteen minutes to get to the lower deck with an airlock/balcony area that led to the lagoon.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he heard her movement in the stillness of the night. He found her clothes strewn in the airlock and shook his head. _She's really skinny dipping, _he thought stepping out on the overhang. He rested his arms on the railing and scanned the water until he saw her swimming toward him. As if she sensed his presence she stopped swimming about ten feet from the overhang and started to tread water.

"It's not polite to stare Sheppard," she called to him with a sly grin on her face.

"I wasn't exactly staring," John replied. "I was looking."

"You don't give up do you?" she chuckled swimming a little closer to him. "Are you getting in?"

"I don't have my swim trunks," he said holding his hands up in surrender.

"Who said anything about swim trunks?" Kirstin replied with a laugh. "Just get in! I won't peek."

John thought about it for a micro second. "Kirstin I can't….I ca...I'm the military leader of this base. I can't just strip my clothes off and dive in," he replied over-explaining.

"Are there security scanners over here?"

"Not exactly," he replied.

"What's the problem then?" Kirstin said swimming the final few feet to the overhand. "I can make it worth your while."

John looked down and could clearly see that she was naked. He watched her look up at him with the devilish grin on her face. She wasn't going to let him off the hook and honestly, he didn't really want her too. He exhaled loudly and squatted down to untie his boots. _This is crazy, _he thought as he undid the laces and stood to kick them to the side. He could hear her laughing at his awkwardness as he stripped out of his shirt, pants and drawers.

He dove in and swam playfully in the lagoon with her for the better part of an hour. The water was warm and wrestling with her was a refreshing and alluring change of pace. Sheppard was careful to keep away from the wall near the overhang and the windows that looked out of the lagoon for fear one of his security detail would be watching. He directed her to the apex of the lagoon area near the outer edges of the city. He found a submerged shelf that was wide enough for both to sit on and would put their heads just above the water level. John grabbed her arm and pushed her up on it and then climbed next to her.

As he settled on the shelf, he felt her hand on his inner thigh drawing circles on his skin. It sent a shiver up his spine. He looked over at her carefully and found her leaning into to him. He reached over to cup her face and kissed her hesitantly. The contact between their lips ignited a fire within him again. He could feel his body react to it in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He closed his eyes and pulled her in, feeling the friction of their lips on each other, their tongues tentatively probing the depth within. He felt her pull back and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"John," she whispered breathlessly. "Will it complicate things between us if I decide to stay here and keep my commission?" She traced the outside of his ear as she waited for his answer.

"Maybe," he replied running his fingertips down the side of her cheek. He pulled her in for another kiss and slid his hand down to her breast, gently massaging it with his finger tips. He smiled when he heard her moan in his mouth and added a little more pressure. He lifted his head slightly and kissed her nose. "We can work it out," he mumbled softly looking into her eyes. At that he felt her hand on his thigh move to touch him and he closed his eyes briefly, swallowing at the pleasure that rocked through him. "That's going to complicate things," he whispered pulling her chin up with his fingers.

"Do you want me to stop?" Kirstin whispered as his lips nipped at hers.

"No," he mumbled.

Their lips crashed together in a frenzy of mind and body. Kirstin kept firm pressure in her strokes pleasing him and teasing him until she had him at the brink. In turn he manipulated her breasts, the base of her neck and her lips with his tongue, drawing her into deep probing kisses that matched the intensity he was feeling. He was close to unloading and it pleased her to bring him to this plateau. He dropped his hand between her legs and quickly began to stoke the folds of her skin. She spread her legs for him and cried out when he touched her swollen bud. It didn't take long to get her to his level.

"Kirstin," John muttered between nips at her lips. "Stop, I'm …." he gasped looking deep into her eyes.

"Let me John," she replied strengthening her grip on him. "Let me watch you," she said quickening her movement.

She felt his hips buck against her grip and felt his fingers push inside her. She watched his face as he gritted his teeth and blew a puff of air out hard between his lips. Their eyes were locked on each other, watching as they pleased each other. She ran her fingers over the tip and felt the juice escape his body as he moaned with pleasure.

Sheppard grabbed her hand to stop the friction and intertwine his fingers with hers. Their eyes never lost contact with each other yet John wasn't sure if Kirstin had reached her apex or not. John brushed his lips against hers and lazily kissed her as the energy drained from his body.

"Are you ready to take this somewhere warm and dry?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"Yep," she replied leaning forward and pulling both of their bodies off the shelf into the lagoon. She sliced through the water effortlessly, barely making any noise as she headed for the overhang.

_Yeah, this definitely complicates things, _he thought as he swam after her.

* * *

Commander Tucker shuffled into the mess hall and headed for the coffee pot. Once he got to the table to fill his cup he heard her in his head. _It's not wise to be consuming caffeine at this late hour, _she said to him. He sighed quietly, knowing that she was right and opted for hot water instead. He pulled a tea bag out of his pocket and dropped it in the liquid and then balanced the cup with his crutch while making his way to her table. He found it curious that she didn't get up to help him, but before he could project it to her, a Marine sergeant on his night patrol stepped up to grab the cup.

"Commander let me help you with that," the man said snatching the cup before it fell from Tucker's hand. "Will you be joining Commander T'Pol?"

"Yes, Sergeant," Trip replied. The two men walked the few feet to her table. Trip watched the Marine set the cup down. "Thank you," he mumbled as sergeant pulled the chair out for him.

"Can I get either of you anything else?"

"No I'm good," Trip replied sitting down across the table from her. "T'Pol?"

"No, thank you Sergeant Parker," T'Pol said excusing the man from the table.

"Yes ma'm," Parker replied inclining his head.

Trip watched the man walk away from the table with a grin on his face. Tucker looked back at the Vulcan and arched his brow. "Somethin going on between you two?" he questioned T'Pol.

"No."

"He seemed a little… friendly," Trip remarked watching her expression.

"Sergeant Parker assisted me earlier when I moved my personal items from Hero to my studio," she replied frankly. T'Pol tilted her head to the side when she caught a whiff of Tucker's drink. "What is that putrid odor?"

Trip looked down at his cup. "Oh, that would be Romulan tea," he chuckled stirring the liquid with his spoon. "Raver sent it over for me in that care-pack he gave you."

"It's offensive," T'Pol commented taking a sip of her own beverage.

"Yeah, it's an acquired taste," Tucker said with a smirk. He took a sip of it and shook his head at its eccentric taste. "Oooo, it'll put hair on your chest for sure."

"Hair on my chest?"

"It means … you know, never mind. It's something stupid my older brother used to say to me," Trip muttered waving his hand to change the subject. "You're sure you don't want to go tomorrow?"

"My appointment with the IOA isn't for five days."

"You don't want to go site-seeing? I could take you to some beaches that I've wanted to show you," Trip said trying to talk her into it.

"I've already been to earth," T'Pol said flatly.

"Twenty second century earth," Trip argued. "That's hardly the same." He watched T'Pol roll her eyes in that Vulcan way of hers and sighed heavily. "Look, I didn't come over here to get into an argument with you. I just want to make sure that you're going to be okay with staying here while the rest of the crew is gone."

"Lieutenant Bowyer is staying here as well," T'Pol corrected him.

"T'Pol you're missing the point."

"I am not missing the point Trip," T'Pol replied firmly. "You are worried about me. While I appreciate the sentiment, I assure you that I will be fine." T'Pol picked up her cup and hesitated before taking a sip. "As you say, I am a _big girl_, I can take care of myself."

"Maybe it's not you that I'm worried about," Trip retorted. "Junior may decide to throw a wild party while I'm gone." He caught the confused expression on her face. "Isn't the gestational period for Vulcan females shorter than Human?"

T'Pol hesitated before answering his question. The gestational period was shorter for a full-bred Vulcan. A hybrid, as in the case for her child, was another story. Her doctor on Vulcan could only form a hypothesis regarding her due date. "Are you planning on being on earth more than three months?" she asked circumventing his question.

"No, I just know that sometimes babies have a mind of their own," he answered waving his hand around nonchalantly. "My sister-in-law delivered both my niece and nephew early and I …. don't want to miss it," he replied finally spelling out his concern.

His words touched her in a way that she couldn't describe. After Jonathan's death and Reed's revelation to her that Tucker was alive, she wanted Trip to be that person in her son's life. Now that piece of the puzzle was falling into place nicely. Their relationship was …work in progress at best. "If something were to come up with my child, you could return to Atlantis through the Intergalactic Bridge within an hour."

Trip nodded his head in agreement and took another sip of his tea. "And what about McKay?"

"What about him?"

"You're not going to feel compelled to…" Trip waved his hand in the air trying to think of the word and instead just pointed at his shoulder.

"Although he is annoying, the doctor and I have a respectful working relationship," T'Pol replied setting her cup down. "You will have your hands full with Major Mackenzie I fear."

"Nah, she'll be fine," Trip replied leaning into the table. "She'll be in her element with the military. She digs structure."

"She has little patience for delays," T'Pol reminded him. "It would be wise to visit the Infirmary before you leave."

Trip shook his head. He knew where she was going with that line and didn't feel it was necessary. "I know Kirstin. I can control her outbursts without medication," he said flatly. "She's an adult, not a teenager with A.D.D."

"That is hardly a correct characterization of her panic attacks. From my experience the episode occurs when she is in unfamiliar territory and she feels that she has no control, which may be the case over the next few days," T'Pol remarked. She fiddled with the handle of her cup and then stopped abruptly when she realized it mocked Mackenzie's behavior.

"Well, the Major's behavior is the least of my concerns. I still don't think Hero is going to fit into the launch bay on Apollo," Trip growled. He took a final sip of his tea and set the cup on the table.

"It fits in the simulations," T'Pol said.

"Yeah," he cringed as the image of Hero crashing into the side of the battle cruiser played out in his mind.

"I believe the sensor array on Hero will adjust the ship's properties accordingly."

"Yeah, you know, I guess that's what hanging me up," Trip said playing with his cup. "That ship breaks all the laws of physics. I watched the simulations a couple of times now, but it doesn't make sense to me that it can expand and contract like that."

"Dr. McKay and I had this same discussion earlier today."

"And?" Trip prodded her to continue.

"The alloy the hull is composed of is capable of making the adjustment," T'Pol explained. "It's not something that either of us will understand completely because the alloy is not a compound that is available on Earth or Vulcan."

"I know, it's Xindi," Tucker grumbled setting the cup back down on the table. He yawned heartily noting the tea did its trick to make him drowsy. "I don't remember Degra's ship doing that."

"Degra's ship wasn't constructed by the aquatics," T'Pol reminded him quietly. "You're fatigued," she commented in response to his yawn. "Perhaps you should return to your quarters. Tomorrow will be a _big day." _

"Yeah, I guess," Trip said struggling to stand. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 of this story takes place during the events of Reunion. The B story if you will … It has been six weeks since Hero has been stranded in the Pegasus Galaxy.

A/N: Remember the cute unnamed Major from S3's episode Sateda? I took the liberty of naming him …meet Craig Jeeter.

Chapter 6.

Major Kirstin Mackenzie lugged the green bag down the corridor on Atlantis as she headed for the laundry room. She cursed under her breath for being a procrastinator. Not only did the bag contain every piece of clothing that she had in her possession on Atlantis and sheets from both Colonel Sheppard's bed and her own, it also included a couple of Sheppard's t-shirts and a pair of Teyla's pants. At the moment, the only clean article of clothing she had to wear was her Starfleet issued sports bra and the only reason it was clean was that she had washed it in her bathroom sink two nights ago. Of course her brilliance to wash her undergarments in the sink apparently only extended to her bras since this morning she couldn't find one single pair on underwear to put on … not even her 'period' undies.

As for the rest of her attire on this laundry day, Kirstin practically had to beg John to let her borrow another t-shirt and a pair of pants just so she wouldn't be standing nude in the laundry room. It went without saying that his pants were way too long and way too big. In fact even after threading her gun belt through the loops and fastening it on the tightest notch, she could still pull the pants down just by sticking her hands in the pockets. Since she was forced to go commando until the laundry was done, having her pants teetering on the verge of falling down was a necessary evil.

She stumbled into the laundry room and surveyed the space. Much to her relief the room was empty of any expedition staff. Kirstin dropped the bag and tugged it over to the nearest washing machine. She dumped the contents on the floor and quickly sorted it into four piles and then scooped up the piles and threw them into their own machines. She was adjusting the settings when she heard his footfall behind her.

"Hey Joes," Sheppard called to her as he skidding around the door. "I found two."

She smiled as the nickname he had for her rolled off his tongue. Josephine was her mother's name, her grandmother's name and even her real name … Joes her childhood nickname and the last person that used it was her father. Somehow it just seemed right that John Sheppard would be the next. "Where did you get'em?" she asked blushing as she watched him walking toward her.

"One of the med techs in the Infirmary," he said loud enough for her to hear him over the washer. She turned around to face him as he trapped her body against the machine with his arms. "You didn't put my socks in with any of your colored…," he waved his index finger at her body as he looked for the right word. "stuff?"

"I know how to do laundry John Sheppard," she quipped giving him a sly grin.

"Really? I didn't realize that Starfleet had washing machines on their ships," he replied inhaling sharply to capture her scent. He leaned in to kiss her neck just as she answered.

"All the starships do and surprisingly they aren't….um….that different from this," she stammered as his whiskers from his unshaven face sent chills up her spine. "Ooo, John," she whispered as he brushed his lips across hers and slid his fingers under the waistband of her…er his pants.

"Damn Joes," he mumbled pulling back from her lips. "You weren't kidding about these being ready to fall right off you," he remarked as he easily worked his way under the fabric to cup her butt in his right hand. He squeezed her firm muscles and watched her pupils dilate as ripples of pleasure rocked her features.

"Careful flyboy," she whispered. "We're in public."

He chuckled as she squirmed under his touch. Against her protests he moved his hand to the front and began to stroke the outer edges of her folds. He locked his lips against hers just as a squeal escaped her lips. John's tongue probed her mouth as his fingers began to stroke her bud and he threatened to push a finger inside her.

Kirstin arched her body against his and could feel his energy, hard and requesting attention beneath his pants. How it could even be hard again completely mystified her. They had been intimate just a few hours ago and in the middle of the night _and_ before they went to sleep. Now, as much as she wished he would take her right here while the washing machine was in the agitation cycle, he was pushing his luck. She pulled back from his lips, resting her forehead against his and gently put her hand on his arm. "John," she pleaded quietly.

Sheppard exhaled loudly and pulled his hand from her pants and rested it on her hip. He ran his left hand under her chin and brought her mouth up to meet his, kissing her again. "How much longer are you going to make me wait?" he mumbled as he pulled his lips from hers.

"Until I'm ready," she resolved looking deep into his eyes. She knew he understood, even though he didn't like it.

"I think you're ready," he remarked kissing her forehead again.

"Right here in the laundry room?" she joked, changing the feel of the moment. "What if Colonel Carter walked in?" Mackenzie put her palms flat on Sheppard's chest and pushed him back a step.

"She just got here. Why would she be hanging out in the laundry room?"

"Maybe she packs dirty?" Kirstin replied with a smile on her face.

"Only you pack dirty," he said shaking his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two safety pins, holding them up for her to see. "Which is an embarrassment for the US military in any timeline."

"What're you doing for lunch?" Kirstin asked dodging his observation. He was right about her, she had her slob-like moments, but only once in a while, when she was procrasinating. She removed her gun belt and set it on the washing machine.

"Ugh, I have to meet Ronon," Sheppard remarked. He watched her pinch together a fold of cloth from the waistband of the pants and hold it. John carefully hooked the safety pin through in, pinning the fold to the waistband.

"I can't join you?" Mackenzie asked as she repeated the movement on the other side of the waistband.

"Nah, I need to talk to him about something," John mumbled pinching the safety pin closed. "Is that good?"

Kirstin shoved her hands in the pockets and tried to pull the pants down. "Its better," she said turning around to face him again. "About what?" She watched him hesitate as he reached behind her and picked up her gun belt. "If you say it's classified I'm going to slap you."

"That could be considered domestic abuse," Sheppard laughed half heartily. He knew she was serious and considering that she kicked his ass the last time they sparred together, he didn't want to tempt fate. "Just between you and me, Ronon's thinking about leaving Atlantis."

"What? Why?" Kirstin exclaimed feeling her heart rate kick up a beat. She fumbled with the weaving the belt through the loops in her pants and he reached out to help her.

"I don't know," John said taking the low road. "I just need to find out where his head is and talk him out of it." He snapped the buckle together and rested his hands on her waist. "Behave on your off-world mission this afternoon."

"With Lorne and Jeeter?" Kirstin scowled. "Oh yeah, they're bunch trouble makers."

"Well, separately they're not, but two team leads together is a deadly combination. Besides," Sheppard said with a mischievous grin crawling across his face. "They might find out you aren't wearing any panties and get all frisky. I'd hate to have to demote them over it."

"John Sheppard. There is only one man that is going to see me without my panties on," Kirstin replied frankly crossing her arms at her chest.

"Who's that? Me?"

"Doctor Chu," Kirstin replied flatly. She broke out in laughter a second later unable to stick with the joke.

"Uh, huh," Sheppard grunted shaking his head. "Oh," he snapped his fingers. "Don't forget to take a knife," he reminded her.

"Yeah, don't worry Air Force, Marine's don't forget their knives," she replied rolling her eyes. "Rule number nine."

"Rule number nine?" Sheppard questioned with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Rule number nine… always carry a knife, preferably two, one that can't be found in a pat down," Mackenzie spelled out for him.

"Marines have rules about that stuff?" Sheppard remarked with a hint of sarcasm. He stepped closer to her and snaked his hand up her shirt, heading right for her breast. "You know, us flyboys have some rules of our own," he said brushing his lips teasingly across hers. He heard her gasp into his mouth as he ran his thumb over her nipple and he smiled as she started to fidget again.

"Oh yeah?" Mackenzie replied resting her hands on the washer behind her. The pressure he was putting on her breast was pushing her limits. He knew just how to push her buttons and he could hit his target every time. If that was any indication what making love to him was going to be like, Kirstin was in trouble. "Like what?" she asked trying to calm her urges.

"Oh, like rule number five, don't like a Marine try to one up you," Sheppard answered slowly pulling his hand from under her shirt. He tilted his head to the side mischievously and held up the pocket knife that she had tucked in her sports bra, just under her breast. "There better not be anyone feeling you up on this mission or …"

Mackenzie twisted her lips in defeat and took the knife out of his hand. "Or what?" she asked dropping it in her pants pockets.

"You're going to get a small glimpse of the jealous John Sheppard," he replied brushing his hand over her cheek. "I'll catch you for dinner later okay?"

"Okay," Kirstin replied. She leaned in to his chest and kissed him one final time for the afternoon. She stepped back and exhaled softly. _Payback after dinner for that pat down. I love you_ she signed to him looking up into his eyes. She suddenly felt a knot in her stomach. _Crap! Did I just say that? _she recoiled nervously.

He held her gaze and watched her bite her lip, nervous about letting the "L" word slip. He didn't even feel weirded out that she said it or signed it. He stepped back from her just as another person walked into the room. Sheppard signed to her _be safe today, I'll be waiting for you, _like she had taught him as he backed away from her and headed for the door.

Kirstin smiled and felt giddy like a school girl as she watched him leave. She turned around and caught the other person in the room staring at her curiously. Mackenzie changed her demeanor and put her focus back on the washing machines, visions of John Sheppard still clouding in her thoughts.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard made his way to the mess hall, his thoughts still in the laundry room drawing pictures of the twenty things he could have done to Kirstin to put a smile on her face. It was no surprise that she asked him to stop. She held all the cards on their intimate time and John let her out of respect.

That was not to say he wasn't satisfied. Their intimate moments were long and drawn out sessions of exploration and discovery. She had taught him things he had never taken the time to learn before …like how to please each his partner without succumbing to flat out buck wild intercourse. Foreplay had always been a part of his repertoire but was just a prelude to the main event. He knew how to bring a woman to an orgasm with some oral manipulation, but was admittedly a novice and had little patience for anything else. Kirstin had painstaking shown him how foreplay _was_ the main event and the rest was just desert. Kirstin knew exactly how to touch him, to work his trigger points and to take it a different playing field. Most nights it wasn't about sex when they together, it was about feeding a hunger between them.

There were times when sex was all it was about, and the rough and fanatical moments always left them bruised and sore the following day. Kirstin would allow him to enter her only from her backside, which wasn't necessarily a good thing for John. The opening was tight against him and with each thrust against her it took all his will not to explode too early. Despite her denial, he was certain that position did nothing for her. Her body would respond in kind, her core would be hot and wet and while he fingered her folds and gently stroked her bud, he could bring a squeal out of her. But he suspected she allowed it only to quell his primal urges. As for her own … well, she was making him wait.

People had given him clues as to why … Kirstin herself, Trip, even T'Pol had opened windows to Mackenzie's past and the events that had carved her walls. He understood, sort of, and he didn't mind letting her call the shots. It was actually a bit of a turn on for him. He could push her buttons and take his time wearing her down but amazingly she would always stop him before he entered her core. That was okay, he guessed. She would let him when she was ready.

He was sure that day was getting close. Since the day she had opened the window about the nickname her father called her to the "L" word that she had slipped just minutes ago …it was all a sign of her comfort level with him. She was so damn cute after she said it, even if it wasn't verbally. John had never been good about expressing his feelings to anyone, much less a woman. The whole time he was married to Nancy, he swore he had only said it twice. Since Kirstin had taught him sign language, John felt more at ease with emotions, like signing his feelings was a lot less risky than actually verbalizing them. He was getting closer to telling her he loved her too. Real close.

Sheppard entered the mess hall and spied Ronon sitting alone at a table in the middle of the room. He walked through the line and filled his tray with some fruit and a small sandwich and then made his way to the table. He watched Ronon eye him suspiciously as he sat down.

"Teyla has already spoken to you hasn't she?" Ronon said sitting back in his chair.

"Ya, well, we had a little chat," John replied nonchalantly still trying to decide how to play it.

"Uh huh … let's hear it," Ronon said flatly.

"Hear what?" John questioned looking up at him.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say," Ronon replied impatiently.

"I'm not going to say anything," John said picking up an apple slice. The fruit was always in abundance since Commander Doyle and McKay had installed the protein re-sequencer in the galley. And even though it wasn't exactly real … it tasted pretty damn real to him. He'd be hard pressed to tell the difference in a blind taste test.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't have too."

"Why's that?"

"Cuz you already know what I'm going to say," John said waving the apply slice at Ronon. "That you're a valuable member of my team and it would be difficult to find someone to take your place. You think you're going back to find something that you've lost, but there's nothing to go back too. Sateda's gone and living on the run with your buddies isn't going to bring it back." Sheppard picked up his glass and took a sip of the juice.

"You're not going to say any of that?" Ronon asked watching Sheppard finally eat the apple slice that he had been waving at him for the past minute.

"Nah, I don't have too."

Ronon leaned forward on the table. "Look, this isn't about me trying to bring back the past," he remarked defensively.

"Well, what it is then?"

"They need me. They've always have. I'm the one that took care of them, brought them home safe whenever we went into battle," Ronon growled arguing his point.

"It's been what … eight years since you last saw them?" Sheppard questioned. "I think they've been doing pretty well on their own."

"Five of that unit survived the attack on Sateda. There's only three left," Ronon retorted. "Maybe Marika and Hemmie would still be alive if I had been there."

John exhaled slowly and pushed his tray aside. "Look, you're one man Ronon. You can't expect to protect them forever."

Ronon was quiet for a moment as he stared at the table. In the back of his mind, he knew John was right, but his excitement over being reunited with his friends was over-powering his judgment. "Maybe not," he mumbled looking up at Sheppard. "They have some intel on a Wraith target."

John bit into another apple slice and chewed it while he watched Ronon. The allure and excitement of whatever stories his friends had filled him was definitely having an affect on the man. Sheppard knew it was going to be tough to get him to believe anything realistic at this point. "The Replicators and the Wraith are kinda kicking the crap out of each other right now. It's probably not worthwhile to stick our noses in the middle of it."

"I think you'll change your mind once you hear the details," Ronon replied with a sly grin on his face.

"Well, let's hear it."

"Not just yet," Ronon replied with a sly grin on his face.

_Oh crap, _Sheppard thought as he caught the sparkle in Ronon's eye. He knew that look all too well. This was going to be much harder than he thought.

* * *

Kirstin stood at the bench in the middle of the gear room and clipped the P-90 to her vest. She stole a sideways glance at the mirror to check out how she looked and smiled approvingly. _I look like a bad ass. __Twentieth century weapons are tough, not those wimpy phase rifles that we carry. P-90's have teeth, _she surmised sticking two P-90 magazines in one of the front utility pockets. Mackenzie shoved three stun grenades on another pocket and then walked to the weapons locker to retrieve some ammo for the 9 mil on her leg.

"Watch the ordnance Major," Major Jeeter growled at her from her side.

"Huh?" Mackenzie said turning to look back at him.

"Did you think I wasn't watching you?" he chuckled walking up to her. He reached into her vest and pulled out the two magazines for the P-90 and the three stun grenades. "I think this is overkill. We're going to visit our _trading_ partners, not on a resonance mission."

"Nothing wrong with being prepared Major," Mackenzie replied reaching over and pulling a cube of C4 out of Jeeter's pocket. "You carry this," she said holding the brown square in her hand.

"Yeah, well, I might need to blow things up," Jeeter said shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah? And I might need to cover your six," Kirstin replied with a sly grin. She took her ordnance out of his hand and stowed it back into her vest. Jeeter handed her two 9mm magazines and she stuck them in another vest pocket as she walked back toward her locker. She unclipped the P-90 and laid it on the bench. She stepped over to her locker and pulled her phase pistol out and unzipped the interior pocket of the vest and slid the sleek metal pistol in. She was reclipping her P-90 when Major Lorne walked into the room.

"Yo Rambo! I hope you're packing some long underwear with all that ammo," he said nodding his head at her flack vest.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kirstin asked with a sarcastic tone.

"It's going to be cold as hell where we're going," Lorne said pulling on his flack vest. "I hope you're dressed for it."

"So you think just because I'm from the future I don't know how to dress for the weather?"

"Hmm, more or less," Lorne said clipping his P-90 on.

"It snows in the twenty second century," Mackenzie grumbled. "And I'm dressed for it, so don't worry."

"Okay, I'm just saying. Now's you chance to bundle up," Lorne replied flatly. "We just sent the MALP in for a weather report. It's a balmy 29 degrees, winds out of the southwest at 10 mph giving the air a nice wind chill factor of eleven degrees, give or take a degree or two," he reported rattling the update off like a weather man.

"I hate friggen winter!" Jeeter sneered yanking his vest off and throwing it on the bench. He begrudgingly pulled two sweaters out of the storage locker and threw one at Mackenzie. "Put this on Major … don't even think about arguing with me over it either. You'll thank me when we get back."

"I love winter," Lorne replied. "Breathing in pollution free air, that's crisp and cold is invigorating."

"Oh yeah, especially when it burns the hell out of your lungs," Kirstin mumbled as she dumped her flack vest on the floor and pulled the sweater over her head. "Nothing is more refreshing than standing on a street corner in downtown Chicago when it's butt ass freezing out and trying to flag down a cab while Mother Nature tries to suck the life out of your lungs through your nostrils."

There was silence in the gear room as Lorne, Jeeter and Corporal Sullivan exchanged glances. Kirstin looked over at the three of them in confusion. "What?"

"Nothing," Sullivan mumbled going back to minding his own business.

"I take back everything I thought about you not understanding what a real winter was," Lorne remarked with a surprised glint in his voice.

"Great, glad that's settled," Kirstin replied impatiently clipping the P-90 to her vest for the final time. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with," Jeeter agreed. "I have a date tonight with that cute little blonde scientist from exobiology."

"Nice name there Jeet," Kirstin retorted as she headed out of the gear room behind Lorne.

"Was I talking to you?"

"Yes," Mackenzie replied with an annoyed tone. "Why can't you find anything better to call her besides cute little blonde scientist? Only kids and puppies are cute, not adult women."

"If you must know, her name is Carol," he smarted back to her. "And for the record, I do call her other things … respectfully."

"Uh huh," Kirstin replied rolling her eyes. She could only imagine what he would call her … _honey, baby, boo …._ _ugh, just the thought of it makes my skin crawl. _"Boys," she muttered under her breath as the three waiting in the gate room for Corporal Sullivan to catch up.

"Watch the mouth Mackenzie, you're out numbered here," Jeeter reminded her.

"Yeah? Big Whoop. I've seen you fight, I could TKO you before you realized what happened," Kirstin joked to him.

"Am I going to have to separate you two?" Lorne asked glaring at the two Majors standing next to him. "You guys can stay here if you can't behave. Sully and I can handle this on our own."

"No sir," Mackenzie and Jeeter replied in unison.

"It's over…sir," Mackenzie muttered glaring at Jeeter.

"Just a little friendly fire sir," Jeeter said getting the last word in.

The gate sprang to life behind them as Lorne walked toward the rippling blue puddle. "Let's go then," he said passing through.

Just as the rest of the team stepped through the gate, Kirstin had the final say by punching Jeeter in the arm. Hard.

* * *

"You want to hit a wraith lab?" Sheppard repeated with an incredulous expression on his face. He scanned the faces at the table with his eyes. Ronon's three friends, Rakai, Ara and Tyre were all bought into this hokey plan of theirs. _Busting a wraith lab? Are they delusional? _"No offense, but that's awfully close to crazy talk territory."

"It's not just a lab. It's a weapons research facility." Ara answered. "From what we've learned the plant is under-manned."

"Learned from whom?" Rodney butted in and caught Tyre and Ara sharing a quick glance.

"We have our sources," Rakai replied drawing McKay's attention.

"Big whoop! We all have sources," Rodney replied rolling his eyes. "The question is how credible are they?"

"Look, we know the wraith are being attacked on several fronts," Tyre justified. "They don't have the resources to secure all their facilities."

"Still she said under-manned, not un-manned," Rodney reiterated. "There's a big difference."

"It won't matter," Rakai replied loudly. "We can handle it."

Rakai's tone set off Sheppard's spidey sense. "Well, if you can handle it, then why do you need our help to pull it off?"

"We don't!" Rakai retorted. He slammed his hands on the table and stood, towering over it trying to intimidate Sheppard.

Despite Rakai's heightened agitation, John didn't even flinch, it just confirmed that the three weren't being truthful about the plan. It didn't matter because John had had about enough. Very slowly, Sheppard stood from the bench and started to back out of the bar. "Well, seeing how you don't need our assistance, we'll just be on our way." He glanced at Teyla and McKay and turned on his heel in an attempt to walk out of the tavern. He found Ronon blocking the door.

"Would you just hear them out?" Ronon said. It wasn't really a question. He looked into Sheppard's eye and caught the non-verbal _no _before John had the opportunity to say it. "For me?"

* * *

"Mac you're trembling."

"I'm fine," she mumbled forcing her body to still itself. With the wind chill, the temperature was in the single digits and she was hardly dressed for it. She was wearing thermal gloves, had on a stocking cap and a thermal neck warmer pulled up to cover her mouth and nose. The extra sweater that Jeeter had given her before they left was definitely helping her upper body, but her lower half was nearly past frozen. Of course it didn't help that the only protection her legs, knees and butt had from the elements were John's black cargo pants. After finishing the laundry, stowing it in her dresser and remaking both beds and grabbing a quick lunch she never got around to putting on any panties. Not that wearing underwear would have been a serious factor in her warmth, but if she had really heeded Lorne's advice, she would have pulled on a pair of long-johns before they left. As it were, the two pair of socks and the extra length of the pants stuffed into her boots were keeping her toes and ankles shielded but everything from there to her waist was as cold as ice. "It's your fault that we're stuck out here anyway," she remarked stomping around to get some feeling back in her legs.

Jeeter scowled at her and said nothing at first. She was right, even though he would never admit it. _Well, actually she started it when she slugged me before walking through the gate, _he remembered, not that he didn't use every last opportunity to finish it before they reached the town. Major Lorne had had enough of their bickered and ordered them on perimeter watch while he and Corporal Sullivan lived it up in the warmth of the city leader's office. So that was why they were outside freezing their asses off right now, although Mackenzie was definitely looking a lot colder than he. "You're not fine," Jeeter growled at her finally. He pulled a pocket warmer from his vest and popped it. "Here," he mumbled handing it to her.

"What's this?"

"A pocket warmer," he replied. "Stick it in your glove or pocket. It lasts about twenty minutes."

Kirstin eyed the beige packet suspiciously, but could already feel the heat in the palm of her hand. She shoved it into her pants pocket and inhaled sharply as the packet burned against her frozen skin. "Got any more?" she asked after a minute. Jeeter pulled another from his pocket and tossed it too her without saying a word. "Ooo, that's a little better," she blurted out as the heat built up on her thighs. "At least my twat won't be frozen now."

Jeeter nearly did a double take when he heard the word come out of her mouth. "What?" he guffawed.

"You heard me," she said sniffling and then grimacing as the frigid air seared the inside of her nostrils.

"Oh I heard you alright! I just can't believe…." He shook his head and chuckled. He took a few steps away from her and looked down the empty street. It took all his will to restraint himself from looking at her … um privates. _How can you not, after a comment like that! _he though scanning the buildings across the way from their position. _It's like being a Hooters and not staring at the server's boobs! _"You kill me sometimes," he shot back at her.

"Cuz I'm haf-eye?" she stuttered as her teeth began to chatter again.

"Only up here," he replied pointing at his head. "The rest of you…definitely not guy." He walked back toward her just as a gust of wind blasted them. It was strong enough to force both to stumble backward a couple of steps. Mackenzie lost her footing and fell to the ground in front of him. Jeeter grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet and then pushed her up against the side of the building. He stepped behind her, shielding her from the wind and inadvertently rested his left hand on the side of her hip as the wind cascaded over them. He nearly recoiled from the lack of heat she was generating. _Geezus, she's freezing,_ he thought as he pressed his body against her to share what little body heat he was giving off. He pulled the glove off his hand and ran it over her leg feeling for layers under the fabric of her cargo pants. _Frick! _he cursed when he realized she was only wearing one layer. _So much for the 'I've waited for a cab in subzero temperatures speech', _he thought. He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the vestibule of the nearest building. The business was closed and the small area wasn't heated, but it was out of the wind and a hell of a lot warmer than standing outside.

"Why aren't you dressed warmer?" he yelled at her shoving her back against the wall. He was only slightly surprised that she didn't resist or even hit him. _Frick, I need to get her blood pumping! _he thought as he scrambled for a method of warming her up.

"Iole you, Iiafin," she mumbled as her teeth chattered uncontrollably. "Is juzointo mae itworz."

"Like hell!" Jeeter reached out and pulled her muffler down. "Are you _trying_ to get me killed? Your lips are fricken blue! Sheppard will have my ass if I bring you back with hypothermia!"

"Wecan keep defensive permeta from inzid the illding," Kirstin tried to mumble pulling the muffler back over her face.

"Aghhh!" Jeeter scowled as he watched her whole body shake. He should have never trusted that she had dressed properly for the mission. "Are you listening to yourself?" He caught her arm just as she started to head back out to the street. "Where the hell do you think you're going? Stay here, that's an order Major!"

"Wha?" Mackenzie blubbered wrenching her arm free from his grasp. "Ewe cannon gev me orders." She sniffled and exhaled hard watching the air crystallize in front of her mouth.

"Yes I can. I outrank you."

"No ewe don't," Mackenzie replied looking up at him. She rubbed her hands together and held them in front of her mouth to warm her fingers.

"Yes, I do," Jeeter replied flatly. Mackenzie's skin color was starting to worry him, so he was taunting her on purpose to get the blood flowing again.

"Not tecklingly," Mackenzie mumbled looking blindly at her hands. "Iva hunda sesyears on ewe."

Jeeter started to chuckle and shook his head. "That doesn't count."

"It shud," she whispered. "Oh god," she moaned shuddering violently. She squatted down on her haunches and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Okay, I'fa rezzing. Arnd ewe cold?"

"Not half as much as you," Jeeter replied cocking at eyebrow at her. He unzipped his vest and dumped it on the floor and then leaned over to untie his boots.

"Wha-eer ewe doin?" Kirstin asked watching him carefully.

"I'm wearing two pairs of thermals, so I'm giving you one," he replied as he kicked the boots off. He unclipped his belt and began to slide his pants down his legs when he noticed her face flush red.

"Ian't," she mumbled.

"Yes you can Marine. You need them more than I do," he replied. He had his pants off and the top layer of thermals in his hand in seconds. "Here," he said helping her stand up. He handed Kirstin the thermal and watched her take them reluctantly. Jeeter started to redress and after a second he noticed she hadn't moved. "What's the problem? Hurry up! Put them on!"

"I can't," she replied defiantly, her words clear for the first time in several minutes.

"Why?" he asked. He straightened up from tying his boots and towered over her slightly. He glared into her waiting for her lame ass answer and then… he got it.

"I'mot wearin an underzwa," she mumbled quickly darting her eyes around the small area to avoid his stare.

"You're wha….?" he coughed out in shock. _Not like I should be shocked, she swears like a drunken sailor so why should this surprise me? _He inhaled sharply and rolled his eyes. "I don't give a shit … I won't look." He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the back of the small entrance and then stepped in front of her. He unclipped her P-90 from her vest. "Hurry the hell up before someone comes." He turned around and listened to her as she struggled to unzip her vest.

"Crap!" Kirstin cursed as she willed her fingers to function. "Jeet, my fingas won't work."

Major Jeeter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Since Kirstin and her shipmates had crashed landed in the Pegasus Galaxy, he had fallen into an easy friendship with her. Jeeter probably could even be more, if Colonel Sheppard wasn't in the way. There were unspoken things they did for each other and knew about each other … like the night he busted Mac and Sheppard skinny-dipping in the lagoon….but helping her get dressed when she was frozen and not wearing any panties teetered on that invisible line …. Didn't it? _Or does that somehow fall into some obscure military protocol? Guys go commando all the time, not that I've helped any pull their pants on. _He sighed heavily and resigned himself to the fact that he had to do it. Seeing her naked ass was better than Sheppard having his if anything serious happened to her. "Fine," he said turning around.

* * *

The tavern was noisy and crowded as the townspeople took refuge from the nasty winter weather. Jeeter, Mackenzie and Corporal Sullivan sat at a small table near the fireplace relaxing in the warmth before making the five mile hike back to the gate. That was if they went at all, which if Lorne had his way they weren't. The weather had taken a downward spiral since their arrival. Besides the frigid temperatures and gusting winds, mother nature had decided to blast them with heavy snow, which mixed with everything else was becoming a full out blizzard.

Lorne weaved through the tables as he walked back to meet the team. "It's looking pretty bad out there and no sign that its going to let up," the Major said resting a leg on his chair. "Looks like we'll need to get rooms for the night."

"No way in hell," Jeeter blurted out. "There's no way I'm going to miss my date with Carol tonight. I've been looking forward to it for days."

"Screw your date," Mackenzie growled. "I have dinner plans with the Colonel."

"Corporal, you got anything to do tonight?' Jeeter asked the man.

"Agh, not exactly," Sullivan remarked and then caught site of both Jeeter and Mackenzie staring at him. "Oh, well there's a Mensa Club meeting later."

"Have you looked outside lately? It's a friggen blizzard out there!" Lorne scoffed.

"Come on Lorne …it's just a little weather," Jeeter argued. "Corporal, go check on the weather," he said.

The Corporal stood up from the table, walked about five feet craned his neck to look out the window and came back to the table. "Looks fine to me sir," he reported.

"There you go," Jeeter said looking up at Lorne. "Mackenzie you done with your tea?"

"What?" Lorne exclaimed looking over at Sullivan and down at Jeeter. "He didn't even go to the window."

"I'm ready to roll," Mac said standing up. She picked up her cup and swallowed the last of the warm liquid and then set it down. "What it is? Five clicks back to the gate?"

"More or less," Sullivan replied.

"Piece of cake."

"No, no, no," Lorne remarked shaking his head as his three team mates walked past him. "We're not going out there. That's a suicide mission."

"Come on Air Force," Mackenzie chided him. "Sulking is only going to make the hike longer." She walked to the doorway where Jeeter and Sullivan were gearing up for the elements and pulled her stocking cap over her head.

Lorne stared at them in disbelief. _Marines, _he sighed giving in to follow them.

Two hours later, the four were trudging in a single line on their way to the gate. The snow was piling up and drifts were making the hike slow going, but the tree-line was protecting them from the wind.

"Respectfully sirs …ma'm," Sullivan called out finally breaking the silence. "Are we there yet?"

Major Jeeter looked up and scanned the landscape. "Ah, no," he answered flatly when he saw nothing on the horizon.

"Great," Sullivan muttered. "I hope we're at least heading in the right direction."

"Oh, no," Mackenzie replied. "Please tell me we're heading in the right direction. Because that would just really suck. Lorne!!"

Major Lorne stopped walking and pulled a compass out of his pocket. He stared the indicator and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, we're heading in the right direction."

"We're late for our check-in," Corporal Sullivan added from the rear.

"Thanks for the reminder there Corporal," Jeeter sneered.

Lorne ignored Jeeter's commentary and checked his watch. "I'd guess we're about three clicks from the gate. Want to double time it?"

"That's it? That's all the farther we've walked?" Mackenzie huffed as she stumbled and fell into the drift in front of her. "What the frick!" she mumbled taking a header into the snow. She noticed the three men kept walking and ignored her. Mackenzie rolled over on her back and stared up at the sky listening to the crunching of their boots. "Don't stop on my account!" she yelled out to them. She listened quietly and didn't hear any of the three stop. "Boys," she muttered rolling over on her side to get up.

Mackenzie caught movement out of the corner of her eye and froze in her position. She leveled the P-90 at her chest and clicked the safety off. As she scanned the wooden area within her line of sight she activated her ear piece. "I've got movement," she whispered into her mic.

"It's probably some deer-like creature," Jeeter replied sarcastically in her earpiece.

"I don't think so …. unless the deer in this galaxy walk on two legs and carry shotguns," she whispered dropping down to her chest.

* * *

"So you want me to talk to him?" Colonel Carter asked leaning against her desk.

"Yeah, I've tried my hand at it. Teyla's done her bit. None of which had any effect," Sheppard replied. He stood in front of the Colonel and leaned slightly forward on the balls of his feet.

"My first encounter with him didn't go over so well," Carter reminded him.

"What better way to redeem yourself?"

"Why do I get the impression that you aren't telling me something?" Carter ventured with the Lieutenant Colonel.

"I dunno," Sheppard replied. "New commander syndrome maybe?"

"Excuse me, Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard," Chuck interrupted from the doorway. "Major Lorne's team is three hours over-due and missed their check-in."

"That's not like Lorne," Sheppard remarked turning to follow Chuck to the Control Room. Lorne may have been over-due from a mission a time or two, but the Major was a stickler for check-ins. Sheppard felt an odd sensation in his stomach as it twisted into a knot and he suspected a certain red-head was the main reason for it. Sure he had concern for the team and their welfare, but if anything happened to Kirstin ….that would really ….not be good. John cleared his throat as if clearing his mind. "When did they leave?" he asked absent-mindedly.

"Gate activation was at thirteen seventeen," one of the technicians reported.

"We sent the MALP in first to get a weather forecast," Carter remarked. "It looked a little harsh."

"That's one way to put it," Chuck chimed in. "Twenty nine degrees in the shade, probably single digits with the windchill."

"That's still not an excuse for missing the check-in," Sheppard remarked sharply. "Dial the gate. Let's try to raise him on the radio." John sighed impatiently while he waiting. The whole dial process only took a few seconds but to Sheppard it seemed like forever. _The team left at thirteen twenty, it's a five mile hike to the city. Take an hour or so to play nice and then hike it back. Total time out should have been six hours on foot. Maybe three in a jumper. If it was that fricken cold out why the hell didn't they take a jumper? I, for one, would not be hoofing it in subzero temperatures. _Sheppard milled around behind Chuck as Carter attempted to make radio contact. After six failed attempts to contact Lorne, Jeeter, Mackenzie or Sullivan by radio, Carter ordered another MALP be sent through to check things out. Getting the mini tank in place took only fifteen minutes, but again to Sheppard it was much longer in his mind.

"I met Commander Topole this afternoon," Colonel Carter said to him making small talk while the gate crew set up the MALP.

"The correct pronunciation is Ta Paul," Sheppard replied relieved that something was taking his mind of worrying about Mackenzie. "How'd the conversation go?"

"Quickly," Sam joked, sort of. "She's very …"

"Direct?" John filled in the blank for her. "She's like that with people she doesn't know. No time for small talk, I think her species has trust issues."

"I got that, which surprised me in a way considering she shares McKay's lab. I can't imagine what it's like when they are in there at the same time," Carter remarked with a smile on her face.

"Actually they get along pretty well," Sheppard said shoving his hands in his pockets. "They spend a lot of time discussing the possibility of Hero returning to their own time line. McKay has even admitted that T'Pol might be smarter than he," he added arching a brow in Carter's direction.

"Well, that's a first," Sam chuckled. "When is her baby due?"

"I think she has a couple of months left," Sheppard started to reply when Chuck interrupted him.

"We're getting telemetry," Chuck announced, pulling the two Colonel's attention back to the matter at hand. Sheppard and Carter stepped over to the monitor and stared at the screen. The view was snowy at first then flickered to pure white.

"I thought you said we were getting telemetry?" Sheppard questioned looking back at Chuck.

"I did, we are … that's it," he said pointing helplessly at the computer screen.

"Pull back on the shot," Carter said thoughtfully. The camera angle changed slightly but the view remained the same. "It's snowing," she remarked after a moment.

"Looks like a blizzard to me," Chuck mumbled.

"What's the temp?" John asked looking back at him.

"Eleven degrees. Strong wind gusts out of the southwest, twenty to thirty mph."

"Yep, that's definitely a blizzard," Carter remarked. "How far is the town from the gate?"

"Five miles," Sheppard answered.

"Before the team left Lorne made a comment about staying the night if the weather got worse," Carter said shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sure they got lodging and will be back in the morning," she said reassuringly.

Sheppard wasn't buying it. He knew for a fact that Jeeter had a date with that cute little blonde from exobiology, Sullivan had some chess club party to go to and Mackenzie … there was no way in hell she would agree to staying there over night. Since Hero's unexpected arrival six weeks ago, she was very nervous in new surroundings. Panic attack nervous. She only lasted three days on Earth and that was her home planet. Kirstin was fine on short trips off world, over to New Athos to teach the kids and on quick supply runs with other teams. But away from her comfort zone for extended periods of time could easily set her off, even if John, or Bowyer or T'Pol was with her. Spending the night in a blizzard on an alien world? _No way! She'd never go for that. She'd walk back to the gate alone if she had too. _

"I'll take a jumper and go look for them," Sheppard said feeling his hands get a little sweaty.

"I don't think that would be very wise. Its blizzard conditions and by now night there. Major Lorne isn't going to do anything to jeopardize his team and neither would you." Carter glared at him with an expression that said _don't make me pull rank on you._

Sheppard held her stare for a moment and contemplated his mortality. _She's right, Lorne wouldn't do anything stupid, especially with Major Mackenzie on the mission, because he knows I would kick his ass if anything happened to her, _Sheppard sighed heavily. "Whose bright idea was it to walk instead of taking a jumper?" he asked in resignation.

* * *

Four things registered within microseconds as Major Mackenzie opened her eyes. The darkness that shrouded her body blinded her like a veil. As the twinge of a panic attack rattled through her systems, her military training forced her to deal with each obstacle one thing at time, compartmentalizing each reaction. She even employed the meditations techniques T'Pol had taught her to slow her breathing and stow her emotions as they came to light. _I don't have time for that, _Kirstin reminded herself as she assessed her situation. For the moment, it looked pretty grim.

Her hands and feet were bound. Her knees were practically at her chest which led her to believe she had been sitting in a chair when it was done. The method the abductors had used to tie her was efficient. She could barely move her arms or legs, not that she was trying much as this exact moment. Her fingertips were full of pins and needles and the numbness in the palm of her hands was a clear sign the bindings were cutting off her circulation. That was just one factor in her current predicament and by no means the worst. The searing pain behind her eyes and across her face caused her to wince as she forced her lids open and stared into the blackness trying to relax her breathing. Everything on the left side of her face hurt, okay … maybe throbbed was a better word to describe it. She was sure the stabbing pain along her jaw, cheek and nose could only mean broken bones. Running her tongue along the inside of her mouth confirmed that, as she could taste blood and feel loose or missing teeth. If that side of her face hadn't been resting on the cold cement floor, she was certain it would have blown up like a balloon. The memory of what happened to bring her to this moment was lost in the darkness that surrounded her.

The last thing Mackenzie remembered was lying on the snow in a full out fire fight. They had little cover and Sullivan was the first to fall, taking a bullet right between the eyes. Within seconds it seemed they were out-manned, but by no means out gunned in her opinion. The shotguns the enemy carried where no match to their four P-90's, or her 9 mil or her three stun grenades and damn sure not her phase pistol. She never had a chance to use it. She blew through the magazine in her P-90 in what seemed like seconds and was in the process of reloading when everything went black. _I hope I at least fought back, _she thought as her brain scrambled to put the pieces together and then she pushed it all away. She didn't have time to dwell on it.

Kirstin tried to adopt the same theme over the fact that her pants were shoved down around her knees. The reason was crystal clear in her head, in her heart and it sickened her. She realized quickly the one second she had allowed herself to mull it over was a mistake. Her pulse began pounding wildly in her ear and she nearly hyperventilated. Tears escaped from her eyes before she could register that she was even crying. The more she thought about _it _the more she became aware of the burning sensation of the torn tissues and the tenderness between her legs from bruising and whatever beating and trauma her body had endured.

Kirstin twisted over onto her back and closed her eyes. She fought hard to hold back the sobs as they riddled her body. _Forget about it Mac! _she scolded. _You can't change it, so move on! _She chanted the words in her head like her father had done to her so many years ago the last time she had been in this position. As her mind flashed to her past she could actually hear his voice ringing in her ear, those words seared into her unconscious. The memory was a fresh as her injuries at this moment and was eerily similar as she compared the two.

The rebellious streak she had gone through when she turned eighteen had been the thorn in her relationship with her father. Mackenzie's defiance to his tyrannical hold over her during her childhood, how he pushed her to study and challenged her mentally after discovering her genius abilities only fueled her desire to become the exact opposite of the person he fantasized. She was easily swept into a world that was nothing like her upbringing. The parties, drugs and booze lured her into the underground world of the seedy side of Chicago, sleeping outside with the rest of the drug community, in abandoned buildings or by trash cans and sewer grates on lower Wacker Drive or Michigan Avenue. Finding her meals in dumpsters behind a fast-food restaurant held it's appeal when she remembered how her father would never take her to McDonalds and forced her into the books instead of letting her play with what little friends she had or just be a normal kid.

Kirstin's introduction to sex and the subsequent encounters were nothing of a loving relationship she had read about in romance novels or even had seen between her parents. Her virginity had been stolen from her as she did whatever it took to survive on the streets and out from under her father's thumb. It was only after she had been raped and beaten by a street thug that she reached out for the protection of his arms. That night at the hospital, as he sat on the edge of her bed and held her hand, his caustic words at the reality of her situation changed their relationship forever and ironically for the better. It changed the direction in which Mackenzie lived her life and mapped her resolve for what she would allow in any further relationship …be it colleague, friendship or lover.

That one night molded Kirstin into the person she was and the words reverberating in her head held the same meaning at this exact moment. The only thing she could do about it was to make sure it didn't happen again. _Don't let it suck you in, that's what they want! _Whoever _they _were … they weren't going to get the best of her. _I'm stronger, I'm smarter and they've made a mistake because now I'm just really pissed me off! _She fought to channel her feelings of anger and hurt into the energy she needed to get out of this mess.

Kirstin laughed at the irony, it was the epitome of the lessons she had learned at SERE school. _Survive, Evade, Resist, Escape, don't forget it Mackenzie! _Mac repeated the words again and again until she pushed back the tears and the stabbing pain she felt in her heart. A snapshot of Commander Tucker lying in his prison cell flickered through her mind. _Tucker put up with this crap for eight months … I can stand it for a couple of hours. I have something more important to get back too. _

Something to get back too brought another memory to Kirstin's mind. Mackenzie flexed her ankle and slowly started to chuckle. "Rule number nine, Air Force …," she mumbled remembering her conversation with Sheppard. "Always carry a knife, preferably two, one you can't find in a pat down," she said aloud listening carefully as her words bounced off the walls. She made a mental note of the size of the room. "You jackasses didn't find either of them!! And if you think I can't reach them … you've got another thing coming!!"

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: No infringement, bla bla bla.

A/N I told myself that I couldn't post this chapter until I finished Chapter 11 ... so now that that's out of the way...

Chapter 7

Colonel Samantha Carter scanned the mess hall looking for a place to eat and noticed Commander T'Pol sitting by herself near one of the windows. She walked to the table and looked down at the alien woman. "Mind if I join you?" she asked nicely, hopefully.

T'Pol looked up and gestured at the seat across from her. "Colonel," T'Pol remarked coolly. She watched the Colonel settle in her chair. "How was your first night on base?" she asked awkwardly trying to be conversational.

"Nice," Colonel Carter replied somewhat taken back by the question. "Sleeping near the ocean always makes me feel like I'm on vacation." She took a sip of her coffee. "Guess I'll need to get used to being at work now."

"Indeed," T'Pol replied picking up her tea cup. She noticed a smile on Carter's face and looked at her quizzically.

Carter caught her expression. "Sorry. I had a friend on Earth that said _indeed _a lot," she remarked sheepishly.

"I see," T'Pol replied sipping her tea. "My experiences on this base in the past six weeks are anything but a vacation." T'Pol glanced at the Colonel and raised her eyebrows questionably.

"Are you speaking of the Wraith?" Carter asked her cautiously.

"No, I have never experienced the enemy defined as the Wraith. I was speaking about the crew. There are many characteristics which make this team more chaotic than I'm used too." T'Pol remarked with a friendly posture.

"Chaotic? I guess that is one way to put it," Carter replied not sure how to take the statement.

"I mean no disrespect Colonel. From childhood my species surrounds themselves with discipline and logic. Chaos is not a characteristic that would define us," T'Pol replied expressionless.

"My understanding was you served on a human ship," Carter remarked. "Was that not the case?"

"I lived among humans for over twelve years," T'Pol replied. "I served under a human Captain and Admiral for five and three years respectively."

"And yet you find our species chaotic?" Carter asked intrigued by the reference.

"If you had been raised to understand the way of logic, you too would feel the same," T'Pol replied inclining her head. "The reference was not meant as an insult to your species Colonel. I find that chaos colors humans approvingly. In our universe, my people find many species to be chaotic and not all of them have the ability to channel the characteristic in a positive manner."

"Meaning?" Carter prompted trying to figure out what T'Pol was trying to get at.

"In simple terms, I have encountered species that are barbaric and ruthless," T'Pol answered.

"Ah," Carter replied nodding her head finally understanding. "I've encountered a few of those myself." Carter took another drink of her coffee and moved the powdered eggs around on her plate. "I reviewed your file T'Pol, it's my understanding the Navy agreed to absorb your commission."

"They have."

"And you haven't accepted?" Carter remarked looking the alien woman in the eyes. "I don't understand T'Pol. You would be a great asset to our military with your science background and your previous command experience."

"I have accepted Dr. McKay's offer to join his team," T'Pol replied frankly.

"Are you sure you will be satisfied with staying here on Atlantis?" Carter asked. "Half of the Hero crew has accepted positions with the military on Earth."

"Is that a problem Colonel?" T'Pol interrupted her eyes narrowing on the Colonel.

"No. I don't have a problem with it nor does the IOA for that matter," Carter replied a little defensively. "I just want to make sure that is the right choice for you."

"I believe the only person that can make that decision is me," T'Pol replied curtly. "While I appreciate the Navy's offer, I have chosen to remain here as opposed to being the Navy's lab rat," T'Pol added standing up from the table. "Colonel, if you'll excuse me."

"Yes, Commander," Carter mumbled sheepishly watching the woman walk away from the table. _Lab rat? Okay, that didn't go over so well, _she thought as she stuck a forkful of powdered eggs in her mouth. _How many more people can I piss off before I get my suitcase unpacked? _

* * *

Colonel Sheppard walked slowly to the gear room trying to prepare mentally for their upcoming mission to gather intelligence on the Wraith and their weapon against the replicators. Ronon's decision to leave Atlantis was weighing heavily on his mind as well as the repercussions his departure would cause. John wasn't kidding when he said he was an invaluable member of his team. His experiences with the Wraith and the fact that he was the strongest guy on the entire base weren't attributes that were replaceable. Besides all of that, Ronon was his friend and he didn't want to lose him. Sure they could keep in touch … but the Pegasus galaxy wasn't like being on Earth. Ronon wouldn't be just a phone call or an email away.

He looked at his watch and counted the time. _Lorne's team should be getting back soon, _he thought as he stared at the face. The thought brought him little relief as he prepared for the task ahead of him. He missed waking up next to her and the fact that he couldn't even talk to her was suddenly very problematic for him. _When the hell did I get so damn close to her? _He asked himself as he headed down the hall.

"Colonel Sheppard."

The distinctive voice of the Vulcan science officer echoed in the hallway as Sheppard stopped in his tracks and spun around on his heel. "Commander," he acknowledged as she approached him. The reference to her rank was out of respect as technically T'Pol had none and was remaining on the base as part of McKay's team. _She's got a bug up her butt, _he realized when he saw her. Sheppard had gotten pretty good at reading her moods over the past six weeks and noticed a distinctive look of anger across her features.

"Do you have a problem with my staying on here?" she questioned him without preamble. She closed the gap between them as he responded.

"No," Sheppard replied flatly. "Why? Has something changed?"

"Colonel Carter was questioning me about it in the mess hall," T'Pol replied tersely.

Sheppard was keen enough to notice the tension in her voice. "T'Pol, it's her job as Expedition Leader to make sure her people are in the right place," he replied flatly. "Including those from Hero."

"With all due respect Colonel, I told you, I was not going to accept the Navy's offer," T'Pol began to argue and then stopped when she saw Colonel Sheppard hold up his hand to silence her.

"T'Pol, I put in your paperwork weeks ago when you returned from Earth and informed me of your decision," Sheppard replied reassuringly. "Nothing has changed. If Colonel Carter is trying to feel you out, it's just her way of getting to know you. It doesn't affect your decision or your placement with the Expedition in any way."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," Sheppard answered the Vulcan. _Geez, talk about some trust issues! _"Your duties on this base are the same today as they were yesterday before Colonel Carter arrived and they will be the same tomorrow. The only person that has the ability to change that is you," Sheppard said a little louder than he originally intended.

"Thank you, Colonel," T'Pol remarked walking away from him.

_Geezus … That's all I need, McKay and a paranoid, pregnant alien, _Sheppard concluded as he turned and headed for the gear room.

* * *

The blackness of the room was causing sensory deprivation as Kirstin tried to orient herself to the surroundings. Her head was throbbing and she was a little dizzy after her circus act to snake her torso and arms around the bindings so she could get her hand up her shirt and retrieve the knife hidden in her bra. Cutting through the rope the confined her hands and feet was the only thing that had gone right in the last twenty minutes. The knife sliced through the rope easily enough as well as her hand and the skin on her leg. _Hopefully it will go that smoothly through someone's neck, _Mackenzie thought as she tucked it back under her shirt. She pulled her pants up and closed her eyes. _Deep breath. Relax. You have more important things to do, _she said as she forced her thoughts elsewhere.

When Mackenzie was certain the room had stopped spinning she stood straight up from where she lay. She exhaled slowly and made sure she was steady on her feet before she made any moves. Mackenzie squatted to pull her larger knife from its sheath between her socks. She stood and held the blade in front of her at arms length. "Okay Major Hayes, guess this exercise wasn't so pointless after all," Mackenzie muttered under her breath.

Her former CO from Enterprise had put the squad through various hostage scenarios in preparation for any encounter with their enemy. _Hold the knife in front of your body at arms length and walk forward, counting your steps until the knife makes contact with the wall. Search the wall with the knife, not your hands. This will protect you hands and arms from any hidden sharps … razors, spikes or glass, _Major Hayes' voice echoed in her ear.

Kirstin had been very loudly of the belief that it was stupid and a waste of time. _What enemy in the twenty second century is going to tie me up, put a hood over my head or throw me in a dark room? _she had argued with Hayes at during one training session on Enterprise. _If I'm taken hostage I'll be rescued by my crew or dead before I have a chance to escape! _She was eating those words now. "I'm not dying here and no one is going to rescue me …except for me," she reminded herself as she took her first step out of her circle.

It was four paces until the knife hit the wall, another four to the first corner and two more until she found the door. Kirstin slid the knife across the heavy wood frame of the opening and found the cool metal knob about midway on the far side. "What are the chances this is unlocked?" she muttered wincing at the pain in her face when she jutted her jaw to far forward. She turned the knob hesitantly and nearly jumped out of her skin when the lock popped open.

"The door is fricken open," she whispered in disbelief. She was still for a moment, with the knob still turned to open in her hand as she figured out what to do. "I'm not staying here," she muttered flipping her knife into a more defensive grip in her hand.

* * *

Sheppard had a bad feeling in his gut. It started the minute he, McKay, Teyla and Ronon had left Atlantis in the jumper. It got worse when they picked up Ronon's buddies who were currently picking on McKay like school-yard bullies. The problem was John couldn't decide if it had to do with this op they were running, or because he was pissed at Ronon for wanted to leave _or _the fact that Major Lorne had neither returned from M874-37A nor checked in with Control to report their status. As he mused over each factor on the _bugging me right now _list, he realized that Tyre was talking to him in the background.

"…put us down near the south end," Tyre called from the backseat. "We'll get less resistance if we access the facility from the backdoor."

"Got it," Sheppard mumbled as his eyes watched the horizon for darts.

"Once we head in, we'll take the lead. Your team can watch our backs," Tyre added caustically.

His voice rattled John's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. _Okay it's definitely this hokey plan that is on my bugging me list. Why do they keep insisting they take the lead? _"Do you have any idea where you're going once we get in there?"

Tyre's hesitation answered his question. "Our target is located somewhere on the second level."

"Ah, could you be a little more specific?" Rodney asked turning around to stare at Tyre.

"We don't have an exact location if that's what you're getting at," Tyre said scanning the eyes staring at him. "The entire second level is a high security sector. It stands to reason that is where the lab is located."

Rodney shared a quick glance with Teyla and was about to jab another sarcastic comment into the air when she interrupted him. "If you are unsure of where you are going, wouldn't it be counterproductive for us to follow you?"

"It's better this way," Rakai butted in. "These facilities are like a maze. We've been inside a few and know exactly what to look for."

"And we don't?" Rodney scoffed. "This isn't exactly our first op you know."

"Really?" Rakai replied towering over him again. "How many wraith have you killed in hand to hand combat?"

Rodney sighed and shook his head. "I hardly think that is what this is about," he replied amazed at the arrogance Ronon's buddies were showing.

"That's what I thought!" Rakai barked back at McKay.

"You know … hand to hand combat is nothing. We've taken out entire hive ships. Compared to us, you guys are amateurs!" Rodney looked back just in time to see Ronon grab Rakai and pull him into the back part of the jumper.

Sheppard had enough of the bickering. "If we can't get play nice together then lets not. We've got a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time, so we will follow your lead and split into teams once we get inside. Are you cool with that?" Sheppard didn't care what their answer was, that was the way it was going to be like it or not.

Tyre got the message loud and clear. He looked up at Ronon and Rakai and smiled smugly. "Sure."

"Good," Sheppard replied turning on the HUD scanner. "Approaching target location," he muttered signaling an end to the conversation. _Yeah, this is definitely on the top of the list today, _he thought piloting the jumper to the coordinates.

* * *

Major Mackenzie walked through the empty corridor with a miffed expression on her face. By the looks of the building she was in a hospital facility or at least what used to be a hospital facility. "I don't get it. One guy guarding my cell and the rest of the building is empty," she muttered as she came to the end of the hall. She had taken out the guard near her cell with a quick neck snap and even retrieved her flack vest, phase pistol and 9 mil. But every room on this floor and one she had just ascended from was empty. She thought she heard something coming from the hallway at her right and ducked into an empty room.

Kirstin closed the door and stepped around it putting herself on the opposite side of the opening. She steadied her own breathing and pulled her phase pistol and listened intently for the footsteps and movement to pass. As she waited, she turned her head and scanned the room. The stark whiteness of the space sent chills up her spine. It looked like every other hospital room she had ever been in, with the exception of Atlantis. A bed, a bank of medical monitoring equipment, a wardrobe and a smaller room that looked like a lavatory occupied the space that was no bigger than her bedroom at Archer's condo.

_Archer's condo. _The image fluttered through her mind as a reminder of what she was never going back to again. She shook her head. _Stop it Mackenzie! If you're not smart, you won't be going back to Atlantis either. __I have dinner plans with John, _she muttered as her eyes focused on the window.

Kirstin walked slowly across the room and pulled the window covering back. The sunlight hit her square in the eye and blinded her for a second. As her eyes adjusted she noticed the ground outside the building was covered with green grass and colorful flowers, not the cold barren winter that she was stuck in just hours ago. "What the frick?" she muttered as her mind scrambled to make sense of it all. "Guess I'm not on M874-37A anymore." Mackenzie turned from the window and dug into a pocket in her vest looking for her watch. She pulled time piece out and stared at the display. "Ten hundred thirty," she whispered, her voice getting raspy with every breath. "Two hour space displacement means that it's zero eight thirty on Atlantis…which means the team is eleven hours over-due," she muttered exhaling slowly. "John will be looking for me … except he isn't going to find me cuz I don't know where the frick I am ..." Kirstin scanned the room and her eyes settled on the door that led to the lavatory. The urge to use it hit her all at once. _I need to get to the gate… as soon as I use the head, _she thought as she scampered quietly across the room.

Mackenzie stepped inside the small room and pulled the door half closed out of habit. She stared down at the small device that appeared to be the toilet. Whether it worked or not, she didn't care at that moment. She scooted her pants down and squatted over the bowl. The relief of emptying her bladder was over-shadowed by the sickening reality of her sexual assault when she saw the blood and mucus staining her long johns. Kirstin swallowed hard and pushed down a rush of nausea boiling up in her throat. When she finished her business, she leaned over to untie her boots and when the laces were lose enough she kicked them to the side and slid her pants the rest of the way to the floor.

Kirstin kicked the thermal underwear off and into the corner of the room. She grabbed a washcloth from a cabinet just inside the door and ran it under the faucet, cleaning up as best she could considering her conditions._ I'm sure I'm contaminating evidence, but I don't give a frick, _she thought as pulled her pants back on. She slipped her feet back in her combat boots and squatted to retie them as she thought through her plan. Mackenzie stood up in the small room and froze in position, feeling her whole body shudder.

"Oh my gawd!" she muttered catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The left side of her face was a red and black puffy mess between the scratches and the bruises and the dried blood. Her left pupil was dilated and the white of her eye was red with blood. Kirstin gingerly pushed her fingers against the bones of her cheek and jaw feeling for broken bones. She winced and cursed quietly as the pain shot through her face. _Frick, ouch! Ya bitch! __That's gonna leave a mark, _she smirked as she ran the pads of her fingers across her cheeks. "Ronon will think I look bad ass," she grumbled shrugging her shoulders at her reflection. "Gotta go," she whispered turning to walk out of the small room.

Kirstin stepped to the main door of the room and turned the knob slowly. She pulled the door open a crack and looked down the hall to the left, searching for movement with both her eyes and ears. When she heard nothing she opened the door farther and stepped quietly into the hallway. The zap of the blue energy weapon overloaded her ears and she felt the blackness hit her with the thickness of a two by four before she could register what happened. _"Ugh!" _she groaned as she slumped helplessly to the ice cold floor.

* * *

"Ugh," Sheppard groaned as he rolled over on the floor and stared up at the organic ceiling of the cell.

"John? Are you alright?"

It took a second to register the identity of the voice. He looked up into the face of the red-head kneeling above him and blinked several times. _Is that Joes or Teyla? _he thought trying to focus on the features. He heard his name repeated as he struggled to sit. "Agh, I'm okay. I got a bit of a hang-over though," he growled scanning the surroundings. Teyla was kneeling to the side of him and Rodney was lying unconscious just a few feet away. "McKay?" he called leaning over to shake the doctor. As Rodney began to stir, Sheppard looked over to Teyla. "Guess Ronon and his buddies not being here is a good sign," he muttered letting Teyla help him to stand up.

"No it's not," Rodney grumbled pushing himself up with his arms. "Ronon's buddies are the reason we are here. They set us up."

"What are you talking about?" Sheppard guffawed in disbelief.

"I ran into they while I was trying to escay….affect a strategic retreat," Rodney stammered. "Rakai stunned me."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Yes I'm sure. It's pretty hard to misinterpret something like that." Rodney replied defensively.

"Was Ronon with them?" Teyla asked staring at John suspiciously.

"I didn't see him," Rodney muttered just as a wraith and three drones approached the cell. He took two steps back to cower behind Sheppard.

"Him!" the wraith male said pointing in McKay's direction. One of the drones activated the cell door and it slid up quietly. As one drone reached in to grab McKay, Sheppard stepped forward to protect his teammate.

"Wait a second," he started to say as the flashing blue energy weapon zapped him. He fell to the floor as his body failed his mind. "Ugh," he groaned as he felt the blackness envelope him.

* * *

T'Pol sat motionless on the exam table in the Infirmary as Dr. Keller reviewed her chart. T'Pol was dressed in white scrubs, her stomach protruding from the top as it barely covered her. Her eyes darted around cloth dividers that blocked the view of prying eyes. She heard motion outside the curtain and turned her head just as Lieutenant Bowyer entered the small area pushing the ultrasound cart.

"Commander," he greeted T'Pol as he wheeled the cart around the side of the table. "How'ya feeling these days?" he asked pulling the medical scanner from his pocket. He ran the stylus over her as she answered.

"My appetite seems to have increased and I tire more easily," she answered looking over at Keller in the corner.

"Hmm mmm," Bowyer mumbled setting the scanner down and picking up the blood pressure cuff. He put it on her arm and pumped it up catching the perplexed expression on T'Pol's face. "I know what you're thinking," he said before she had a chance to ask. "Yes, the scan told me your blood pressure. I just like to do it the old-fashion way," he remarked sheepishly shrugging his shoulders.

"The ole-fashioned way?" Keller questioned from the corner. He walked closer to the exam table and picked up the medical scanner. "You make it sound antique."

"And yet you rely on it over our technology?" T'Pol questioned him.

"Pick on me if you like," he replied pulling the cuff off her arm.

"What was the reading?" Keller asked him with a smirk on her face.

"The same," Bowyer chuckled.

"T'Pol have you had any more mood swings?" Jen asked her setting the chart down on the cart.

"Any more?" T'Pol replied defensively. "Should I take that to mean that Dr. McKay has complained about me again?"

Jen laughed. "No, no … it wasn't McKay."

"Colonel Carter then?"

"Colonel Carter?" Bowyer repeated. "You got into it with her already? She hasn't even been on base for a day yet." The tall lieutenant crossed his arms at his chest and waited for her response. He suspected she was holding something back and glanced over at Dr. Keller.

"I may have been overly sensitive at breakfast," T'Pol replied with an innocent expression on her face. "I seem to be slightly emotional these days."

"Anything you want to talk about?" Keller asked T'Pol warmly setting the medical chart down on the table.

T'Pol was quiet for a moment and then trailed her gaze from Bowyer to Keller. Under a normal circumstance she would have confided in Archer or her Vulcan physician or even Dr. Phlox, but the current situation was far from a normal circumstance. None of those people would ever be available to her again. Trip had left for Earth weeks ago and wasn't scheduled to return to Atlantis until the end of the week. As of late, she had reached out to Kirstin or even Dr. McKay for companionship and both Bowyer and Keller had performed neuro pressure postures on her to relieve the body stress from her pregnancy. While that had provided some release and comfort to her, there was still a sensation deep within that was nagging at her and causing her nerves to be …well, frazzled.

She eyed her medical practitioners carefully. "Colonel Carter was asking me about ….," T'Pol paused and tilted her head to the left. "Suffice it say that I may have over-reacted." She sighed

"Well, I think we're all a little on edge with a new expedition leader," Jen said flatly. She ran her hand down T'Pol's arm reassuringly. "I'm sure she didn't take it personally."

"I trust Colonel Sheppard wasn't offended either," T'Pol muttered biting her lip.

"Wow, you're batting two for two today," Bowyer remarked with a smile. He plugged the ultra-sound machine into the plasma display on the wall behind them and helped T'Pol ease back on the bed. He noticed her face flush as he took her hand and watched her facial features carefully. "Don't worry, I think Colonel Sheppard is one of the few people on this base that gets you," the tall blonde male replied as he thought about his medical training and her condition. He continued to busy himself, setting up for the ultrasound as he racked his brain for an answer.

"As I said, I may have over-reacted," T'Pol replied. She felt the end of the examine table move to the right as Dr. Keller and Lieutenant Bowyer swung it around so T'Pol could see the monitor.

"I hardly think you over-reacted," Dr. Keller remarked. "You've been through a lot the past few weeks and quite honestly you have the right to be a little sensitive." She covered the probe with a plastic sleeve and helped T'Pol adjust her body into the correct position for the procedure.

"Or is it more than that and you just aren't telling us?" Bowyer prodded her when the light bulb finally went on in his head. "T'Pol I realize that Vulcan's don't normally discuss intimate matters, but we are hardly in a normal situation here," he remarked echoing what she had just told herself mentally.

"Anything you tell us will be strictly confidential T'Pol," Keller added reassuringly setting the probe down on the table. "Doctor patient confidentiality."

T'Pol hesitated and felt her head settle into the pillow. Lieutenant Bowyer was intuitive. It was hard to get much past him, as he even figured out the extent of her relationship with Trip. It was an attribute that made him an effective Marine and was an asset in reconnaissance missions. In her universe and century, he was classified as a medic or at best a physician's assistant. In twenty oh seven however, he had more medical schooling than most doctors and in T'Pol opinion he could easily run the medical ward on his own, probably better than Dr. Keller.

"I'm having difficulty finding release from ….. stress," she finally mumbled. She closed her eyes to hide the embarrassment she felt burning in her cheeks.

"Stress?" Keller questioned. "From work or your personal life?"

"I believe T'Pol is referring to sexual tension," the lieutenant concluded stepping around the bed, putting himself between T'Pol and the door. "It is normal for a Vulcan in the third trimester of pregnancy to have an insatiable appetite for intimate contact."

"That is a myth," T'Pol replied curtly as her eyes shot open.

"You have a better explanation for your condition?" Bowyer asked her.

"It is not logical for me to be experiencing …. I am not in a relationship," T'Pol remarked slowly.

"You don't have to be in a relationship to get horny," Chip chuckled. He caught Keller looking at him questionably. "Hey what else should I call it?" he replied sheepishly.

"T'Pol, isn't the neuro pressure helping?" Jen asked shooting Bowyer a questionable glare.

"Hardly," she replied ruefully.

"In a traditional Vulcan relationship, there are some more _intimate_ postures that can be performed to relieve the tension," Bowyer said reverting to a more clinical approach. "But generally couples just engage in sexual activity."

"That is not an option," T'Pol replied frankly.

"T'Pol its normal even in a Human pregnancy for women to have urges," Keller assured her. "There's nothing alien about it."

"Could you prescribe something to lessen the intensity?"

Keller shook her head and inhaled sharply. "Not this close to your due date. There are some sexual devices that could provide you with…."

"Dr. McKay and Major Mackenzie have already suggested that," T'Pol interrupted. "I do not believe I would feel comfortable using them."

"Well it's only a couple of days before Commander Doyle returns to base," Chip commented.

"Asking him to indulge my needs the minute he crosses the event horizon would be inappropriate," T'Pol said flatly.

"I was only making a suggestion," Bowyer said defensively as her words stung him. "You do have a history with him."

"That is true, however, I do not believe that Commander Doyle is interested in a romantic relationship with me," T'Pol said emotionless. "He has indicated he will be a guardian to my child, but has given no indication about our circumstance. Our bond was severed many years ago."

"Are you sure about that?" both Jen and Chip asked in unison.

"I think he is interested and you're just not seeing it," Jen added smiling at T'Pol.

"I believe you are mistaking concern as romantic interest." T'Pol looked at the two standing above her. "In any event, it would not be wise to base my relationship with Trip on sexual intentions. I tried that already and it was unsuccessful."

"Well, then maybe you should consider a fling with …." Bowyer paused as he considered her options. "Dr. McKay."

T'Pol was taken back by the suggestion. "Dr. McKay?" both she and Keller said in unison.

"Scuttlebutt says you're already dating," Bowyer remarked shrugging his shoulders.

* * *

Colonel Sam Carter walked out of her office and stood on the bridge between it and the control room. She looked down at the gate room and sighed. She wasn't even here twenty four hours and now two teams were currently listed as missing. Major Lorne's team had yet to return from their trading mission and Sheppard's team was captured by the Wraith. Jumping right into the fire was one way to look at her new assignment on Atlantis. _And to think I was worried about leaving SGC, _she thought as the rear door to her office slid open. Carter turned around to see T'Pol enter from the hallway.

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" the alien female asked Carter walking through the office.

"Yes, "Carter replied taking in the woman's appearance. Standing, T'Pol looked like she was ready to deliver in five minutes instead of six weeks. Her face held the same blank expression that it had at breakfast. _I don't understand how Sheppard thinks he can read her, _she thought as refocused her mind. "Major Lorne's team is not back from M874-37A. I've sent Sergeant Kavan and his squad to look for them. Colonel Sheppard's mission isn't going so well either. In fact, Ronon and I are heading out on a rescue and recovery mission," Carter remarked crossing her arms at her chest. "You and Captain Jones will be in charge while I'm away."

"I see," T'Pol replied. She hesitated a moment taking in the Colonel's features. "You seem troubled Colonel," she added inclining her head. "Anything you need to discuss?"

Carter chuckled nervously and walked slowly toward her desk. "Just a… rough first day on the job. Colonel Sheppard was concerned about Lorne's team yesterday and I dismissed it due to the weather. Then I didn't have a good feeling about Sheppard's mission before it started and now," she paused leaning against the desk. "Now I need to go in and recover our people." Carter shook her head. "It wasn't exactly the way I thought I would start out in my new role here," she added.

"Colonel, I have been a part of many missions that have gone awry either in a command capacity or as a team member. It is a variable that no one can predict however, rest assured that our teams are trained to deal with the unexpected," T'Pol replied frankly. "As leaders, sometimes it's okay to get our feet wet in order to make things right. The people on this base will respect you for it and it will define your leadership style."

"Hmm, setting a precedence perhaps?" Carter replied with a smile.

"Perhaps," T'Pol agreed.

"Okay then," Carter affirmed pushing off from her desk. "I'll be back later."

* * *

Colonel Sheppard slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the dark web-like ceiling of the cell he and Teyla were being held in. His whole body ached from the stunner blast and it felt like pins and needles were sticking in his chest. "Oh," he groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"John?" Teyla whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh, no better than the last time they stunned me," he mumbled pushing his body back against the wall. "How long was I out?"

"It's been an hour since they took Rodney," Teyla replied glancing at her watch. "Do you think …" her voice trailed off before she finished the sentence.

"No," Sheppard replied firmly as he rubbed his neck. "The goon that picked him out of the cell seemed a little too intent of picking only Rodney."

Teyla nodded and remained quiet for a few minutes. "Do you think Ronon's team set us up?" she asked tentatively.

"Maybe," John replied rolling his neck.

"What aren't you saying?" Teyla asked him. She knew him to well, he was holding something back.

"I had a weird feeling about this thing from the start," John said pushing himself to his feet. "Ronon jumped to their side too fast, their smug attitude," he paced around the small cell. He stopped pacing at looked at her. "What you think?"

"I am uncertain," Teyla replied reflectively. "This is the second time Ronon has encountered his people, but the first time he was willing to give up everything to join them." Teyla remained quiet for a moment then looked up at John. "I too sensed something from the start with them, that their motives were not genuine."

"Well, thanks for cluing me in," Sheppard replied squatting down next to her.

"I'm sorry, I thought I was over-reacting," she replied looking away from him.

"I have that effect on people," Sheppard remarked shrugging his shoulders. "Dr. Monroe, Kirstin, T'Pol … "

"T'Pol? I didn't think that was possible?"

"She _is _pregnant," Sheppard sat turning to sit on the floor.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Teyla asked with a quizzical expression on her face.

"Well, not that I've been around a lot of pregnant women, but I've heard that they have a tendency to get emotional about ….things," Sheppard explained. "Like this morning … she snapped on me over some insignificant comment that Carter made to her. Considering how she did that neck pinch thing to McKay," he added defensively pointing at his shoulder. "I was lucky to get away unscathed."

John watched and listened while Teyla laughed at his expression. He mentally compared her with Kirstin. _Is it really Kirstin that I'm attracted too or is it Teyla? _he asked himself in the microsecond during the lull in the conversation. _Kirstin went after what she wanted and Teyla always seemed unavailable me._

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" Teyla asked, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Who, T'Pol?"

Teyla shook her head, still chuckling. 'No, Kirstin," she said slowly.

_Man, she doesn't miss anything, _John noticed before replying. "Yeah, that's bugging me too," he remarked pushing off the floor and paced aimlessly around the cell.

"I'm sure everything is okay with the team," Teyla tried to reassure him.

"I wish I could be so sure," John answered. "I've had a sick feeling about them since last night."

"About the entire team or just Kirstin?" He glanced at Teyla with a look that spoke volumes and yet was conflicted all the same. "You're in love with her," Teyla concluded.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure when it happened," Sheppard admitted aloud. "And …. I don't want it to affect other … relationships on the base."

"What other relationships?" Teyla asked. Her eyes opened wide when she realized he was talking about her. "I like Kirstin. Your feelings for her will never affect our friendship."

"Good," John conceded not wanting to take that part of the conversation any farther. _This thing with Joes could be over tomorrow and I don't want things fricked up between us, _he told himself reassuringly.

"And as I said before, I'm sure everything is okay with Lorne's team," Teyla reminded him. "Neither Lorne or Jeeter would take any chances with Kirstin along for the mission."

"Yeah," John guffawed. "Because they both know that they'd have hell to pay."

* * *

Major Craig Jeeter opened his eyes slowly and looked up at the grey sky above him. It took his a few seconds to realize the ground below him was frozen solid and the air whipping around his body was like freeze-dried ice. How long he had been lying on top of the white snow was lost on the numbing throb in his head. The pins and needles sensation rattling through the rest of his body wasn't helping either.

"I am so fucked!" he moaned rolling onto his side and scanning the surroundings. There was nothing in his line of sight except trees and snow. No Lorne, no Sullivan and absolutely no Kristin Mackenzie. Before the solitude could register in his head, a cold wet sensation tickled his belly and the inside of his leg. Jeeter pulled at his vest, jacket and sweater. He looked down at his hand and felt his stomach lurch before his brain could register that he had been shot. His hand was covered in blood. As the reality slowly crept in so did the burning pain filling his mind so completely he could barely think. "I am so fucked," he growled forcing himself to his knees. Blinding pain in his thigh made him acutely aware that it wasn't just his stomach that was hot with bullets. He looked down at the snow, stained red with his life. "I'm going to die," he mumbled aloud as he winced in pain and looked around trying to get his bearings. "But honorable by my CO's hand for losing his girlfriend or getting her killed … not by this blasted gunshot wound!"

Jeeter struggled with his vest pocket trying to get to the compass and the field dressings he carried with him. He threw the compass down on the snow and struggled to remove the layers that covered his chest, the vest, sweater, shirt, thermal t-shirt, t-shirt to finally get to the flesh that was swollen and bubbly from the violent attack on it. Jeeter felt sweat trickle down his back as he wrapped the bandage around his body and slowly re-dressed. He clumsily wrapped his leg in another bandage and noticed the blood seeping through quickly. "Like that's going to help at all," he grumbled as he stuck his fingers against the carotid artery and tried to concentrate of the pressure against the skin. "I'm not going to fricken die out here!" Jeeter screamed when he could barely register the pulse.

He picked up the compass and stared at the dial. "The gate is west," he announced aloud forcing his brain to concentrate. He pushed to his feet and took a moment to steady himself. "Walk west," he said turning to walk in the direction the arrow was pointing. "Keep walking," he said as he stumbled through the snow. "Keep walking!"

Jeeter didn't have to go far before the gate loomed in his line of sight. "I'm that close?" he mumbled as he staggered up to it. He half ran half tripped around the gate and over to the dialing device. "I'm not going to faint, wimps faint!" he said breathlessly as he pushed on the star symbols that represented Atlantis.

The gate springing to life was a mild comfort of home and he transmitted his IDC as soon as the blue haze beckoned him. Jeeter rested his hand on the side of the DHD and gulped a few breaths as the tunnel vision started to creep in. "I'm going to pass out," he gasped and then pushed himself forward. _I'll pass out when I get there, _he willed as he hurled himself toward the event horizon. It was seconds before he felt his body impact with the floor of the gate room. He could hear shouts above his head and at that point he just didn't care anymore. "Sheppard's gonna kill me," he mumbled to the blur of faces above his head. Okay, maybe he did still care.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Ouch!"

"You think that hurts? Just wait a second," Sheppard growled as he peeled the compress back from Ronon's face. He ran a swap of antiseptic over the lacerated skin and pulled his hand away quickly as Ronon jerked his head back.

"Geezus!" Ronon screamed. "Sheppard you trying to kill me?"

"No, if I wanted to kill you, I'da just shot you," Sheppard replied smartly. He raised his hand to dab more of the antiseptic on the wound when Ronon swatted his hand away. "You know for being one of the toughest guys on the base, you're started to out-rank McKay for being the biggest baby." Sheppard pulled a flashlight out of his vest pocket and turned it on, then pulled Ronon's chin up with his hand to get a better look at the laceration.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Rodney whined the other side of the jumper.

"How does it look?" Ronon asked wincing in pain as Sheppard gently poked at his face with his finger.

"Well, it's not as bad as McKay thought," Sheppard grumbled still staring at the cut. "It's not very deep and the bleeding has stopped." He let go of Ronon's chin and picked the medical tricorder and hit the scan button. He stared at the screen and watched as the results popped up. None of Ronon's injuries were serious in any sense of the word. A couple of cracked ribs and some minor bruising was the worst of it. John was happy to note that his visual inspection of the laceration on Ronon's cheek was spot on with the tricorder. "This says we can get away with liquid stitches," Sheppard remarked stepping back from Ronon. "Or you can wait for an hour until we get back to Atlantis and have Doc Keller stitch you up."

"That's fine," Ronon mumbled looking up at Sheppard and holding his gaze for a moment. The expression spoke volumes between them and left everyone else in the back of the jumper out of the loop.

"Which part?" McKay questioned loudly when neither man said anything else.

Sheppard handed the flashlight to McKay and pulled him closer to where Ronon was sitting. "Hold this so I can see what I'm doing," John said pulling the dermal super-glue from the med kit.

"You're going to do it?" McKay asked with a surprised look on his face. "What happened to the medic?"

"Schmitt is on the other jumper with Carter and Teyla," Ronon remarked watching Sheppard pull on a surgical glove.

"Oh, well, now … let's add Dr. Miracle Worker to your resume," McKay rambled rolling his eyes.

"Rodney!" Sheppard scoffed sending a warning glare his way. He glanced back at Ronon and smirked. "This might sting a little," he said shrugging his shoulders.

* * *

T'Pol turned her attention back to the Lieutenant Boge's team as the gate deactivated in the background. It was seventeen hundred hours and a second forensic team had just left Atlantis to rendezvous with Captain Jones on M874-37A to assist in the search for the remaining members of Major Lorne's team. Boge's team, consisting of Lieutenant Boge, Dr. Coleman and the forensic pathologist Dr. Biro were debriefing T'Pol on their findings from the site. The staff in the control room was on edge, but T'Pol's calming demeanor was contagious. Everyone was working efficiently as possible with little emotional outburst, a far cry from the chaos of a couple of hours ago when Carter and Ronon had left to rescue Colonel Sheppard.

"As you were saying?" T'Pol prompted Lieutenant Boge to restart the conversation.

"We traced Major Jeeter's trail from the gate back to this point," Lieutenant Boge said pointing to the video playing on the view screen. "As you can see by the blood stains and the indentures in the snow, this is where he was laying when he regained consciousness. However, there are no footprints, tire marks or anything to show how he got there," Boge added.

"Perhaps he was placed there via transporter," T'Pol suggested crossing her arms at her chest.

"Well, that would be a logical summation," Boge replied. "The only problem is besides Apollo, Daedalus and Hero, the only ships with that technology are Wraith," he said flatly.

"Did you take any atmospheric scans of the area?" T'Pol asked the team and watched the perplexed expressions crept across their features. "In my universe, our technology is able to detect residual energy readings through atmospheric scans."

"I took some scans," Dr. Coleman, the scientist from McKay's team, replied hesitantly. "I also have a sample of the snow."

"Excellent. I can help you sort through the data to filter out the anomalies," T'Pol said inclining her head.

"Wouldn't we need a base line scan to start with?" Coleman asked.

"Yes," T'Pol confirmed. "I'll have Chuck contact the second team to take another scan and collect samples. Dr. Biro, could you process Major Jeeter's clothing for residual readings? A medical tricorder can be rigged to detect them," T'Pol commented trailing her gaze from Coleman to Biro. "I will be down to assist you in a moment."

"Certainly, T'Pol," Biro replied. "Dr. Coleman, you can set up shop in my lab," she added inviting the scientist to go with her as she left the control room. "It's less steps for our pregnant alien to walk," the doctor mumbled as she led the way to the forensic lab.

The tell-tale sound of the gate activating drew T'Pol's attention from Dr. Biro's busy-body comments.

"Unscheduled gate activation!" Chuck yelled from his post.

"Chuck, it is not necessary for you to announce the gate activation at such a high decibel," T'Pol commented as she walked behind him and looked at his laptop, checking for the IDC. "I am standing less than three feet from you and I'm certain that no one within ear shot missed the wind-up noise." She glanced around the control room and made eye contact with the rest of the gate team for confirmation. Most all were nodding and snickering in agreement.

"Sorry ma,m," Chuck mumbled sheepishly. "I usually have to shout it out so Colonel Sheppard can hear it over his golf game."

T'Pol rolled her eyes very slightly at his reference. Colonel Sheppard was what Major Mackenzie called a _gamer, _although how anyone standing within fifty feet of the gate could not hear it activating defied any logic to T'Pol.

"It's Colonel Carter's IDC," Chuck added more quietly. "Visual signal."

"Put her through," T'Pol said walking back toward view screen where Lieutenant Boge was activating the screen.

"T'Pol," Carter greeted her once the connection was made. "We've recovered Colonel Sheppard, Teyla and McKay and are on our way back to base," Carter reported. "We should be there in the next forty five minutes."

"I see," T'Pol answered emotionless. "Colonel, I need to inform you, there's been a development in regards to Major Lorne's team."

* * *

_Kirstin. _The voice reverberated in her head like a gentle nudge calling her from her sleep. She could feel him lying against her back, his hands expertly putting pressure against her trigger points. He worked each area methodically, the base of her skull, the back of her neck, her nipples and the folds of her core. Her body was reacting to him in a positive way, preparing for his entrance. _I'm falling for you, _she tried to tell him, but no sound would come from her mouth. When she tried to roll over to face him, to snuggle her skin against his, he refused to let her turn. Her frustration began to turn to panic when she didn't get her way and Mackenzie tried to fight his hold on her.

_Kirstin, _the voice called to her, comforting her, luring her into a sense of security that only Sheppard's arms could bring her. His hot breath on her ear sent shivers up her spine and the smell of his cologne teased her nose. She felt his hand on her leg pushing it up toward her chest, the pressure of his fingers dancing in her core one second and then against her rear the next. Her breath caught in her throat and her body seized as he pushed his fingers inside of her.

_Relax. _It wasn't so much that she heard his voice than she felt it urging her into a comfortable rhythm. They had been in this place, in this position many times before, but somehow today it just felt different. He was gentle, but too curious for her liking. He was probing her and even though the sensation was inviting, it frightened her slightly. _Where are you going with this? _she thought trying desperately to move her mouth.

Kirstin got her answer swiftly. He pulled his fingers from her and rammed his arousal inside of her in one quick movement. He reached in front of her pelvis and ran his fingers through her pubic hair, clawing his way to her bud and twisting it with the pads of his fingers. Kirstin cried out as pleasure and pain rippled through her and with each gasp, he thrust against her harder, filling her more fully. Before she knew it, he had pushed two fingers into her core and found her deepest pressure point. He ran his hand through her hair and pinned her head against the mattress as the force he was exerting intensified. As she felt his teeth graze the skin on her back and sink into her flesh, she suddenly had the creeps. Sheppard didn't use her name when they were making love. This wasn't John. His scent was wrong, his touch was wrong, and the way he felt inside her was wrong.

Mackenzie's eyes snapped open and her whole body jerked awake. She wasn't lying in John Sheppard's arms within the security of her studio apartment. Kirstin scanned the room quickly as panic thudded through her veins. It was dark and not just in the room either. What little light was coming in from the window on the wall was nearly dark as well. _Dusk … which means I've been out … five or six hours? Was I just fricken dreaming? Wait … I…I stopped to pee in that hospital room and then, _her brain scrambled to recount the memory. _Now I'm here. Tied to a hospital bed, _she surmised as she tested the bindings. Her flack vest was gone. _But I'm still wearing my clothes, pants, t-shirt, sweater, boots…and the knife…_she squeezed her breasts and slowly rolled her ankle together trying to feel for the blades she had stowed earlier. _The knives are still there. Again, morons … don't know how to search a prisoner and remove weapons before detaining her! _Kirstin rested her head back against the hard mattress and stared at the dark ceiling, cursing her stupidity for getting captured again. _And I'm being drugged, _she realized as she recognized the IV bag hanging from a pole above her head and followed the tubing down to her arm. As she watched the liquid drip into her vein, she felt the slow burn as it was pumped through her. She pulled at her restraint, but it was useless, she was defenseless against this attack.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't alone in the room. Her pulse began to race and she struggled to control her emotions. _Take a deep breath, _she thought as she tried to channel her fear into a more constructive form of energy. _Kirstin. _She heard the voice … practically a whisper more clearly in her head. It was definitely a male voice and it kinda sounded like John. _Am I back on Atlantis and just freaking out? _she questioned closing her eyes and trying to reign in her wild imagination. When she thought she was more in control, she opened her eyes and scanned the room again.

This time she definitely saw him and it there was no confusing him with John Sheppard. His skin was nearly florescent, standing out in the darkness of the room. Mackenzie eyed him warily as he walked slowly to her side. As he closed the gap, she noticed he was dressed in a long dark jacket and shirt. His hair was short, a mixture of gray and brown and oddly the same ashen color as his skin. The man said nothing as he approached. He stopped at the side of her bed and reached his hand out, attempting to run his finger down the side of her face.

"Get you hands off me!" Mackenzie yelped, pulling her head out of his reach. She winced as pain shot through her jaw.

"Is that anyway to speak to your lover Kirstin?" the gravely voice questioned her.

"That's Major Mackenzie to you Mister ….Dracula! And you … you are not my lover," Kirstin growled staring at the male at the side of the bed.

"Come now, after the intimate moments we've shared the past few weeks," he replied leaning over her, determined to touch her skin.

"I have shared nothing with you!" she spat squirming away from his touch.

The man chuckled heartily. "Oh, but we have my dear Kirstin and soon you will see how connected we are," he pulled his hand back and looked at the IV bag above her head. He picked up a syringe from the table next to her and injected it into her tubing.

Mackenzie watched him as her heart pounded in her ear. _He's jacking with you! _she screamed at herself. "If that were true, you wouldn't have let your guards rape me!" she replied to him tersely.

"What my guard did to you was tragic, however, necessary to teach you a lesson," he said staring up at the medical monitor above her head.

Kirstin strained to follow his eyes. She didn't even realize the monitor was up there much less beeping in time with her heart rate. "A lesson? What fricken lesson could I possibly learn from having the crap kicked out of my face and having some brut violate me!"

"That you're defiance isn't worth the trouble," he replied frankly. "That is why you are restrained and medicated now my dear. You killed the guard that was watching you."

"He was your guard?" Kirstin rolled her eyes. "Well, then you should thank me," she added sarcastically.

The statement caught her abductor off guard. "I should thank you?" he repeated shooting her a perplexed expression.

"What fricken moron ties his prisoner up in an unlocked room and doesn't take away her weapons!" Kirstin replied tersely. "You should give me a medal for killing him, because push come to shove … he wouldn't have defended you. He might have even killed you!" She rolled her head to the side opposite of him.

"So you killed him to protect me?" her abductor surmised and then he slowly started to chuckle with a sadistic tone. "See already you are becoming one with me!"

* * *

"Ambushed? Lorne's team was ambushed?" John guffawed in complete astonishment. "Why am I just hearing about this now?" He looked at his watch and paced across Carter's office. It was eighteen forty hours. They had been back on Atlantis less than fifteen minutes, but John got the distinct impression that Carter had known a lot longer than he. "I have a team that is missing and you are just now telling me?"

"When did you want me to tell you Colonel?" Carter replied rather curtly. "When I rescued you from the wraith prison cell? There wasn't a lot you could do about it then and by the looks of things, there isn't a lot we can do about it now either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheppard asked spinning around and trailing his gaze from Colonel Carter to T'Pol.

"Informing you of the situation any earlier would have been pointless, as is this power struggle between the two of you," T'Pol replied crisply standing motionless between the two Colonels. "Our focus should be on Major Lorne and Major Mackenzie's recovery. They are still unaccounted for and any residual evidence that will provide clues to their whereabouts is quickly dissipating." T'Pol glared at Carter and Sheppard, ignoring the stunned expression on their faces. She walked to the plasma monitor and activated it with the most current data on the search.

"Since Major Jeeter's return to the city, I've had two jumpers performing an aerial search of the planet scanning for Lorne and Mackenzie's bio-signatures and or transponder signals. Currently neither has come up on the grid." T'Pol paused for only a second and then continued before either Carter or Sheppard could respond. "Forensic teams tracked Jeeter's trail to this point," T'Pol said flatly pausing the video stream that showed a taped off area and blood stained snow. "There are no clear indications of how he arrived at this location. No footprints, tire treads or other modes of transportation. Based on the amount of blood loss and the condition of Jeeter's wounds, he was shot just before he was dropped. Dr. Keller pulled P-90 slugs from his stomach and legs, but there were no shell casings found at the site."

Carter tilted her head and walked up to the plasma screen. "Did they check the treeline?" she asked pointing to the side of the screen. "The shooter could have used the trees for cover."

"A likely assumption however the wounds were nearly at point blank range," T'Pol replied calmly. "I believe he was transported to the site." She turned toward Sheppard and looked at him for confirmation.

"The only species that can transport besides us…"

"Is the Wraith," T'Pol interrupted. "Yes, I know. Dr. Coleman took atmospheric scans of the area and we've picked up some trace energy readings."

Sheppard shook his head. "That doesn't make sense," he muttered. "The wraith use stunners, not P-90's and they don't dump their prisoners."

"Unless you know of another species with transporter technology, there is no other logical explanation," T'Pol remarked flatly.

"What about Corporal Sullivan?" Carter asked absorbing the information download.

"The search team located his body in the tree-line about three miles from the gate. He was killed by a single gun shot wound to the cranium. There were multiple shell casings in the proximity that indicate a fire fight between our team and the enemy, but nothing else. Blowing snow destroyed any other evidence that we might have recovered," T'Pol reported.

"What is Major Jeeter's status?" Carter asked pulling herself into an authoritative role.

"As of ten minutes ago he was still in surgery," T'Pol replied.

"Thank you T'Pol," Carter remarked glancing over at Sheppard. She could practically see the steam coming from his ears. "Could you give us a minute?" T'Pol inclined her head and left the Colonel's office silently. Carter watched her leave and once she was out of earshot she turned to Sheppard. "Are we going to have a problem Colonel?" she asked him bluntly.

"No," Sheppard replied tersely. His voice was low as it always was when he was royally pissed. He looked out into the control room at T'Pol and caught her staring at him with an arched eyebrow. _Apparently Carter doesn't know about her sensitive hearing, _he thought before continuing any further. John could almost hear T'Pol warning him to cool it in his head. _She did tell me that her people communicated telepathically, _he remembered as he tried to push away his anger.

"T'Pol's right, our focus needs to be on finding Lorne and Mackenzie. Any argument between us is just going to slow things down." He inhaled sharply. It was a far cry from what he really wanted to say to her, but ironically T'Pol was starting to wear off on him. He was much better at reeling in his temperament these past few weeks. John needed to play it close to the cuff, no matter what his feelings for Mackenzie. He was the military leader of the base and had an official duty to separate his feelings from his work.

Carter hesitated for a moment, somewhat surprised as his reserved delivery. A minute ago, she was sure he was going to blow his top. "Look, I should have trusted your gut yesterday," she said quietly. "A man is dead…"

"Don't…do that Sam," Sheppard interrupted her. "Don't make excuses and don't second guess your decisions. Even if I had run over there half cocked yesterday it wouldn't have changed anything." He paced around the office with his hands behind his head.

"Are you going to be able to keep your perspective on this?" Carter asked him, crossing her arms at her chest. When he turned to face her with a half stunned _you busted me_, half _I don't know what you are talking about_ expression on his face, she smiled. "Look, just because I haven't been in a relationship lately doesn't mean I don't recognize the signs," she explained tilting her head.

Sheppard smiled sheepishly. "It's that obvious?"

"No…actually McKay clued me in," Carter admitted with a smirk. "I probably wouldn't have picked up on it."

"Mr. I broke up with a perfectly normal human woman because I got the hots for an alien Rodney McKay?" John asked shoving his hands in his pockets.

Sam twisted her lips in thought and looked over at Sheppard. "Rodney has the hots for T'Pol?"

"Crush is a better word," Sheppard explained glancing out at the alien woman standing in the control room. "I'm pretty sure that she's not interested in him."

"Well, how would you know with that frosty demeanor of hers?" Sam said in a more conversational tone. "She's not one to mince words."

"Well, honestly? It's better that way because she doesn't bullshit around," Sheppard remarked. "Great attributes for a leader."

"Not very compassionate," Carter said relaxing her hands.

"Ah, you just haven't seen it. Wait til you get to know her better," John said. "That whole little speech she just gave us about…" he waved his hand around in the air. "Just her way of telling us she's been there and it doesn't solve anything."

"If you say so," Carter replied reluctantly. "I'll have to trust you're judgment on that."

"Like you'll trust that I'll keep my perspective with Major Mackenzie?"

"And how I trusted you with your perspective on Ronon," Sam replied. "You did work that out didn't you?" she asked him.

John sighed heavily. "I took my aggression out on him in the jumper on the way back."

* * *

"Is he going to make it?" Sheppard asked Dr. Narula as he stared at the hospital bed. The marine major lying on it had a variety of tubing sticking out of his body and monitors beeping at his every move. If Sheppard was going to make an educated guess, Jeeter was knocking on death's door. "He doesn't look so hot."

"Well, don't count him out just yet," Dr. Narula replied. "Dr. Biro said he should have bled out on the planet. Amazingly he was awake before we took him into surgery and he kept mumbling something about you killing him."

John arched his brow at the comment. "I'll reserve the right to kill him until after he makes a statement." Sheppard replied flatly. "When will it be safe to wake him?"

"Honestly?"

"No, Narula, I want you to lie to me," John replied sarcastically to the young doctor.

"Well, I'd say six or eight hours at least," the man said suddenly nervous at the imposing figure of the base military commander in front of him.

"We don't exactly have six or eight hours to waste," Sheppard growled looking back at Jeeter.

"That's the best I can do Colonel," Narula said standing his ground, albeit hesitantly. "Maybe five … but that's pushing it. Besides being shot multiple times, someone really beat the crap out of him. Like I said earlier … it's a wonder how he even made it through the gate."

Sheppard left the Infirmary dejectedly. He felt very very frustrated. Jeeter was the only link to finding Lorne and Mackenzie and as much as he wanted to tell Narula to wake him up immediately, he wasn't going to push it. Maybe if Dr. Keller was on duty he could have talked her into it, but Dr. Narula wasn't giving him an inch. _I could order him to do it, _John thought as he wandered aimlessly through the city. _He'd probably pee his pants or maybe not. He looks like the kind of guy that likes to be ordered around. _Before Sheppard even realized it he was standing outside of Mackenzie's door.

He told the door mentally to unlock and entered her room without thinking about it. He half expected her find her inside, lying on her bed playing with her laptop or standing on her head against the wall or sitting on her couch staring out the window. Sheppard headed there now and slumped against the seat. He picked up her grandmother's quilt that was folded neatly on the cushion and held it to his face, inhaling sharply as he took in her essence. _God I miss her, _he thought setting the blanket down. _I'm actually falling for her, _he admitted to himself. _And I'm going to be fucked if I can't find her. _

John closed his eyes at the thought of it, losing her. It was a panged emptiness in his heart that was different than when he lost Elizabeth. It was different than what he felt when Ronon said he was leaving. _Sort of, _he muttered in his head. John was sure when Kirstin left for Earth weeks ago that she would pull a fast one on him and decide to remain there. He was off-world with his team and was stunned to hear she had gated back early.

Sheppard smiled at the memory of that day. It was the day she let him in…telling about her first initial and the nickname her father had for her, which was now John's name for her. She had scared him at first. When T'Pol had found to him in the gear room and informed him that Kirstin had returned in a very distressed state. John found her in this room, in the shower, no less.

_"Hey," he called out to her as he walked into the bathroom. The water from the shower was running hot and the room reminded him of a sauna. "Heard you came back early." After his eyes adjusted to the steam, he found her leaning against the wall, resting her forehead on the tile. _

_"Yeah," she replied quietly not turning to look at him. _

_"How'd it go?" _

_"It went," she mumbled. _

_"Anything you want to talk about?" _

_"No." She sniffled and despite that the humidity was about two hundred percent in the small room, John knew she was crying. _

_"Kirstin?" he said waiting quietly for a response. He walked all the way to the entrance of the shower stall and leaned up against the glass wall. The heat was killing him but he was determined to stay there until she opened up or turned into a prune. She was silent for what seemed like five minutes and then turned to face him. The sight of her body, slick from the suds and the water cascading over it was breath-taking. John could feel himself harden just looking at her. _

_"I couldn't breathe," she finally mumbled. _

_You're not the only one, he thought as he took in her presence. John leveled his gaze on her and locked her eyes in an emotion filled stare. Before he even realized what he was doing, he stepped into the shower and took her into his arms. Kirstin didn't resist. _

_John didn't care that he was standing in the shower fully clothed or that his uniform was getting soaked or that water was pooling in his boots. What did matter was his hands were roaming over her body and his lips were connected to hers. He quickly found her breast and began kneading her nipple with his finger tips of one hand while the other danced over her face, neck, shoulders and back. Sheppard smiled inwardly when he heard her breath catch in her throat and a small quiet moan escaped her lips. He pushed her hands away as she tried to unbutton his shirt. _

_"No," he whispered into her mouth. "Let me," he commanded to get her back for the other night. _

_He dropped to his knees and ran his hands slowly up her legs until they reached her mound. As he raked his fingers over her inner thighs and through her soft pubic hair, he looked up at her, watching her reaction. John felt her fingers reciprocate the touch through his hair as he gently fingered her folds. Kirstin obliged him and his intentions by bracing her foot against the shower seat, opening her goodness to him. John took the bait and went to work on her alternating pressure with his tongue and his lips and his fingers. _

_It didn't take long for Kirstin's body to respond in kind. Her core was hot and slick as John worked his fingers against her, teasing the spot deep inside with an occasional touch, teasing her bud with a flick of his tongue. Her hips thrust against his face and her hands pulled him closer letting John know she wanted more. So he gave it too her by trailing his fingers from her core to her rear, teasing the delicate skin in between. He pushed his thumb into her core and as he built up a steady rhythm he began to suck steadily on her bud. Just when she started to squirm against him, her body begging for more, John twisted his hand around to shove two fingers into her rear. _

_He heard Kirstin cry out above him, begging him to do something… whether it was to stop or go on, he wasn't sure. Without looking up, he caught her hand in his and intertwined his fingers with hers all the while never losing the beat. He could feel her leg start to tremble and he knew she was close to losing control. He picked up the pace of his hand thrusts and trailed his tongue around the folds of her core. As he felt her muscles contract around his thumb, he nipped at her bud and chuckled as she pushed his head closer into her legs. He continued to work his hand as the lava surged from inside her and he licked at the juices as they oozed past his fingers. _

_After a moment, he released his hold on her and stood up. Her body was trembling and he helped to ease her leg down to the shower floor. Again she tried to undress him and but her refused. John brushed his lips over hers, drawing her into another passionate kiss and then rammed his fingers deep into her core. His target was the spot deep within her center and he hit it on the first attempt. Kirstin squealed as he bumped against it, unrelenting in his mission. Her breathing quickened and her kisses went from passionate exchanges to motionless lingering. _

_"John, stop," she gasped breathlessly. She felt her eyes roll up in her head and she closed her lids as the pleasure rippled through her body. _

_"Kirstin, look at me," he whispered between kisses. He pulled her chin up to look him in the eye, never letting up on the pressure between her legs. "Do you really want me to stop? he asked her watching her eyes dilate in ecstasy. _

_Her breath was so labored she could barely answer. "I can't," she mumbled incoherently. "I … come, I can't …. John….." she muttered pressing her hands against his chest and closing her eyes again. _

_"Kirstin," John said to her drawing her up into another kiss. "Look at me," he demanded gently. "I got you, let it go," he added to reassure her. That was all it took to send her over the edge. _

John looked down at his hand and realized that at some point in his daydream he had begun to stroke himself. His arousal was hard as a rock and demanding to attention beneath his pants. John shrugged his shoulders and unzipped his fly. What happened in the shower had only been the prelude for the rest of the night. As he rubbed his hand over the head of his shaft, he sunk into the memory of the rest of the evening.

* * *

_Maybe that was when she started to fall for him, that first night after she came back from earth. John had touched her like no one had before. Maybe it was because she let him or maybe because he made her feel safe or maybe it was just time to let someone in. Kirstin never gave anyone an inch to get in, not since losing her fiancé during the Xindi attack. What little sex she had over the last seven years was anything but pleasurable. She basically sucked a lot of dicks and let guys poke her in the ass just to get it over with, but none of it did anything for her. The only orgasms she allowed herself were all self-induced and superficial to the point that she had forgotten what a real one felt like. _

_There wasn't anything that she just wanted to get over with John. Kirstin wanted every moment with him to last as long as possible and she made him work for every brick he knocked out of her wall. It all started the night in the shower when he worked two mind-blowing organisms out of her in less than five minutes. She could barely stand when he picked up her and carried her to the bed. Whatever glorious sensations had rocked her in the shower were only the beginning. Over the next few hours, Kirstin and John began to explore each other methodically until John took her, making her core his. _

Mackenzie's eyes snapped open and she stared into the darkness of the room. _That wasn't how it happened, _she cursed under her breath. _John didn't take me! You can't screw with my memories and make me think something else! _She could feel her face flush with anger and her pulse rate quicken. She was pissed. Mad that she let him twist her thoughts …. again and mad at herself for even just thinking them. She knew what her capturer was trying to do … manipulating her thoughts and memories of her intimate moments with John to make her think or even remember that it wasn't John she was making love to but him. _Obviously he has no damn idea who he is dealing with! _Kirsten growled in her mind.

She rolled her head to the side and nearly jumped out of her skin. Wet hair touched her shoulder and Mackenzie realized that her clothing had been removed. She was laying naked against the plastic mattress, covered only in a thin sheet. As she fought remain calm, a flashback to the shower flitted through her mind. _I was not just in the shower! _she screamed in her head. _I was not just in the shower with him! I was not….._ She never had a chance to finish the thought as she heard a footstep on the side of the table. Before she could turn to look at him, he was there running his hand along the side of her face again.

"You wage a silent battle within, my dear Kirstin," he said, his voice raspy and low. "Your mind is open to suggestion while you sleep, but defiant while you are awake. It will only be a matter a time before we are one."

"We will never be one," she growled pulling her head away from him. Another image of hands against her and kisses at her neck flashed in her mind and she blinked several times to clear them. _He's fucking with you! _she reminded herself.

"Don't be so sure, you're body is already starting to respond to me," he remarked slowly. "Soon you're heart will as well."

"Like hell!" Kirstin snarled. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

He stepped back from her bed and turned toward the monitoring equipment. "Your clothing has been laundered by one of my followers. They, along with your weapons, are hanging in the wardrobe."

Kirstin strained her eyes across the room and noticed the cabinet on the wall next to a small room, which she surmised was the latrine. _This room is just like the other,_ she thought as she scanned the walls. _Like every other hospital room in the world. _

"In case you are concerned, I had one of my followers bathe you earlier," the man remarked as he adjusted one of the machines.

"One of your followers?"

"I have many," he commented flatly.

"Well speaking of followers, where are the men from my team?" Mackenzie asked him looking straight up at the ceiling. She caught his sideways glance. "Major Lorne and Major Jeeter?"

"One of your team is dead," he replied.

Mackenzie swallowed hard as his words settled in. "You killed him? What was the purpose of that?" She blinked and closed her eyes, fighting any emotion that was burning in her throat. _He's lying, _she told herself. _If he really killed one of them, we'd all be dead. _

"Like you, he was defiant when he was brought here. He had to be taught a lesson."

"Because you can learn something when you are dead," Kirstin replied sarcastically.

"Perhaps he won't, but you and the other man on your team will."

"Well, you might as well just kill me now, because I'm not going to play nice in your little game plan …. Mr. … what's your name anyway?" Kirstin asked suddenly deciding to change her tactic with him. "You do have a name, don't you?"

The man looked straight at the wall. "Some know me as Michael."

"Michael." Kirstin repeated with a stunned expression on her face. "Your name is Michael? That's a human name."

"Yes it is," he replied going back to his work.

"You're not human," she remarked.

"That is correct."

"So how did you get a human name?"

The man turned toward her and sneered at her in disgust. "Don't act like you don't know."

"I'm not acting," Kirstin replied. "I don't know."

"All the Lanteans know of me," he commented and started to walk from the bed.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to make assumptions about people? I'm not Lantean!" she yelled. She cursed under her breath at the sharp pain in her jaw but noticed that her outburst caused him to stop. He turned around to face her.

"You wear the uniform of Atlantis."

"Well, yeah," Kirstin said stammering. "I live there now, but I'm not from there. I'm not even from this galaxy."

"Because you are from Earth," Michael retorted. "Let me guess, from a place called Texas!"

"No," Kirstin replied slowly with a confused expression on her face. "I mean, yeah, I'm from Earth, but not Texas," she muttered. "Chicago….but it's doesn't even matter because it's not the Earth that everyone else is from."

"There is more than one?" Michael asked, suddenly intrigued by the statement. He stepped back toward her bed.

"Sure," Kirstin shrugged. "I guess there are an infinite number of planets named Earth."

"You are mocking me," Michael replied picking up a syringe from the stand near her bed.

"No I'm not," Kirstin pleaded eyeing the device cautiously. "Physics one oh one? For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction? I'm not from the same universe as Earth. The timeline is all different. My Earth is nothing like the one in this timeline."

Michael held the syringe in the air, taunting her with it. He tilted his head as he considered her statement. "Time travel is not possible," he concluded.

"Yeah, whatever!" Kirstin dismissed. "There was a bunch of people on my ship that used to believe that too… and now we are all stuck here. It's not that big of a stretch. It happens in my universe all the time."

"You're from another universe?" Michael questioned her in disbelief.

"From the future. Twenty second century … twenty one sixty one to be exact, if you measure time like that," she remarked flatly. "That makes me like a hundred and ninety two years old."

Michael tilted his head and chuckled. "I am thousands of years old," he said to her.

"Oh well, see now we have something in common," Kirstin replied plastering a fake smile on her face. "We're both older than dirt."

* * *

"You're up early," Rodney remarked walking toward the occupied table in the mess hall. "Care if I join you?"

"If you must," T'Pol replied barely looking up at him. She moved the spoon around in her oatmeal and then pushed the bowl away.

"So, since when do you get out of bed at zero four thirty?" Rodney asked shaking pepper on his scrambled eggs.

"Contrary to popular belief, I am awake every morning at this hour," T'Pol said taking a sip of her tea.

"Doing what? Do you get any sleep?"

"Barely," T'Pol replied with a defeated tone. "The child has been quite active."

"Oh, which reminds me, I emailed my sister about her pregnancy and she said baby movement was normal in the last trimester," Rodney said as he shoveled scrambled eggs in his mouth.

"It is not normal for Vulcan children however," T'Pol replied eyeing the cup on yogurt on his tray. "Are you going to eat that?" she asked motioning at the cup.

"This?" Rodney mumbled pointing to the cup. "No, I… ah, actually picked it up for you," he caught her eyeing him carefully. "Since you took mine the other day at lunch," he added, over-explaining as he handed her the cup and a clean spoon. "Anyway, do Vulcan children ever get to have any fun? The way you talk Vulcan life is so mundane."

"Children are allowed some discretionary _fun _until the age of ten, then they are schooled in the lessons of Surak and logic," T'Pol remarked pulling the top from the yogurt cup.

"Well, I hope you realize that human children act like kids for a lot longer," McKay commented taking a bite of his toast. "Some never grow up."

"So I have observed," T'Pol replied arching her brow and putting a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.

McKay watched her savor the fruity custard-like substance before swallowing it. _She's hot,_ he thought trying to act nonchalant. "So, doesn't Commander whats-his-name get back tomorrow?"

"Doyle," T'Pol said taking another spoonful. "He returns at the end of the week."

"Oh that is what he is going to go by now? Doyle? Cause last I heard he was leaning toward Tucker," Rodney said waving his hand around in the air. "Isn't that his real name?"

"He was born Charles Tucker the Third."

"Yeah, but wasn't his record closed by your government because he was technically dead?"

"That is irrelevant," T'Pol answered holding a spoonful of yogurt in the air. "The IOA informed me that our identities would be created for us by the military. While it doesn't affect me as much as the others, they could choose to be whomever they wanted."

"Yeah, well … whatever. Have you decided what you are going to tell him about the baby?" McKay asked her.

"As I informed you the other day, I have not yet come to a decision regarding that conversation," T'Pol said sharply finishing the yogurt.

"Okay, geezus!" Rodney replied sheepishly. "I was just asking. I was gone all day yesterday, you might have changed your mind."

"I did not."

"Did you even miss me?" Rodney asked taking a big sip of his coffee. "I could have been eaten by a Wraith!" He stared at her waiting for a reaction, knowing damn well she wasn't going to give an inch.

"No."

"No what? Rodney said shrugging his shoulders. "No even a little? If I was gone you wouldn't have a job!"

T'Pol stared at the man in disbelief. "I hardly think my position on Atlantis is contingent on whether or not you are my _boss. _If you were not here, I would simply transfer to Dr. Zelenka's team or Colonel Sheppard's."

"Thanks T'Pol, you really know how to make a guy feel loved," Rodney grumbled taking another sip of his coffee.

"The affection I have for you as a colleague has no romantic quality to it. Which reminds me, have you worked out your differences with Katie Brown?"

Rodney shook his head and picked up his fork. He moved the last of the scrambled eggs around his plate. "For the record, I don't have any differences with Katie Brown. She has …. _Issues… _with me, or you specifically," McKay said tossing his fork on the tray.

"Would you like me to speak to her?"

"What? Are you kidding me? No you can't talk to her! You're the enemy!" Rodney said loudly.

"Perhaps if I explained we are merely friends."

"Oh no no no no," Rodney blurted out. "See here's that part of irrational human relationships you don't understand … even if you told her that we were just friends, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even believe me about it," McKay said pointing at himself. "No, do not talk her … she'll have to just figure it out on her own or hear it from one of her girlfriends before she gets it that we're not dating." McKay shook his head and picked up his coffee cup.

"Rodney," Colonel Carter called as she headed across the mess hall toward their table. "T'Pol" she greeted the woman as she got closer.

"Hey Sam," Rodney said standing up from his seat. "You're up early."

"Yeah, the infirmary just called me, Major Jeeter is awake," Carter replied glancing around the room. "I was looking for Colonel Sheppard, he's not answering his radio."

"Colonel Sheppard is …" T'Pol started to interrupt and then thought better of it. Since she shared interior walls with Kirstin's studio, she knew for a fact that Sheppard had spent the night in her room. Now wouldn't be the time to discuss that with Carter however. "Perhaps his battery is dead. I believe I saw him on my way to the mess hall. I'll retrace my steps." T'Pol stood up quickly and hesitated as a wave of vertigo hit her. She stumbled backward as she lost her balance.

"Whoa," McKay gasped as he reached out to catch her. "T'Pol?" he said snaking his hand around her waist.

"I'm fine," she replied resting her hand on McKay's chest. "I believe I stood too quickly." She blinked a few times as the world righted in front of her. She didn't move her hand and her close proximity with McKay felt oddly okay to her.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked with a concerned tone.

"Yes," T'Pol replied consciously aware that McKay's arm was still holding her protectively around the waist. She glanced around the mess hall and caught the glare of Katie Brown from across the room. "Rodney?"

"Yes?"

"Get your hand's off me," T'Pol whispered tersely. "Katie Brown is staring at us."

"Oh crap," Rodney moaned snatching his arm away from T'Pol's waist so quickly that she stumbled into Colonel Carter.

* * *

Major Jeeter closed his eyes and swallowed down the biggest bout of stage fright he had ever encountered in his life. The inside of his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. _This is stupid! __I've worked the security detail at the fricken White House and had tea with the President for kricesake …and yet my boss is boring a hole right through me because I fricken invited his woman and my friend on our fricken goodwill mission and now … now she's fricken missing!! _Jeeter looked up and scanned the faces looking down at him. Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Narula, Dr. Keller, T'Pol and of all people Dr. McKay were standing there looking for ...or better stated demanding answers about his whereabouts for the past twelve or twenty-something hours he had been missing. Jeeter's downfall was that he had no idea what to tell them.

"I don't know Colonel," he finally croaked out. "Some of the details are a little fuzzy. It's almost like I was drugged or something."

"Let me clear that up for you," Dr. Narula said tapping the side of the medical chart in the palm of his hand. "You were. We've identified two of the chemicals in your system. Both would be considered narcotics on Earth and one has hallucinatory properties."

Jeeter listened to the young doctor with an invisible sneer on his face. _I never did like that guy. He talks to people like they are stupid, _he thought remembering how he explained Dr. Weir's injuries to Ronon. _Just because he graduated from Georgetown doesn't make him smarter than me or anyone else on this base. Ronon could probably smash him with his thumb, _Jeeter rolled his eyes at the thought.

"Major?"

Jeeter snapped his eyes opened at the sound of Colonel Carter's voice. _Did I fall asleep? _he chided himself feeling like a total ass. "Ma'm?" he muttered shifting his weight on the bed.

"Why don't you just tell us what you do remember," Sheppard ordered, rather than asked, with that sarcastic drawl of his.

_Oh shit, _Jeeter cursed as he hit the imaginary rewind button. "Well, the snow and wind had kicked up a notch while Major Lorne was meeting out contact. Lorne wanted to get rooms for the night and wait it out, but Mackenzie and I were determined to make the trek back to the gate," Jeeter said, remembering the chain of events.

"If the weather was bad, why did you risk it?" Carter asked crossing her arms at her chest.

"Ah …Both Major Mackenzie and I had dates," he remarked sheepishly. "Not with each other though….with our significant others." Jeeter looked at Colonel Sheppard helplessly. Jeeter caught on to some non-verbal communication between Carter, Sheppard and T'Pol. The silence settling in the room was too much to handle and he stammered to fill the gap. "The weather wasn't that bad once we got about a mile out of village. We were walking along the tree line which gave us protection from the wind. We were about half way back to the gate when Mackenzie caught sight of movement. We were surrounded in minutes."

"Did you recognize any of the men?" T'Pol questioned.

"Did he recognize them? What's supposed to mean? It wasn't like he was bellying up to the bar next to them," McKay remarked sarcastically.

"Rodney," Sheppard growled silencing McKay.

"I can't say for sure, but their weapons were similar to Genii," Jeeter added finally glad some of the pressure was off him.

"The Genii?" Carter questioned.

"They're allies," McKay answered.

"Most of them," Sheppard corrected.

"They had stunners too," Jeeter commented.

"Stunners?" Sheppard questioned. "Wraith stunners?"

"Yeah," Jeeter nodded. "We were under heavy fire for a couple of minutes and then they just stunned us."

"And after that?" McKay prompted.

"Honestly, I don't know," Jeeter replied ruefully. "I can't decide if what I remember really happened or if I dreamt it."

"Just try," Sheppard said crossing his arms at his chest. "Anything … buildings, people, weather?"

"Warmer … definitely warmer," Jeeter said closing his eyes. "And for some reason I think I was in a modern hospital facility, with nurses and doctors, grass and flowers," he jutted his jaw out in thought. "Or I might of dreamt that part."

"Right, because there are so many modern hospital buildings in the Pegasus Galaxy!" McKay sneered. "Let me guess the nurses gave you a sponge bath too right?"

"Listen McKay, I don't need you questioning my responsibility to my team!" Jeeter yelled. "Unlike you, I don't run in a battle, I stay and fight until I can't fight anymore!" Jeeter felt a sharp pain in his side and winced as he leaned into it burying his head in the pillow.

"Way to go Rodney," John mumbled under his breath, his tone riddled with frustration.

"Okay, everybody out," Narula directed firmly. "Visiting hours are over."

T'Pol pulled McKay out of the room that housed Major Jeeter and blocked his path averting his determined trek to continue his argument with the major. She turned to watch Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Carter exit as well. She watched the emotions roll over Sheppard's face, a mixture of anger and anguish. She was aware Carter was oblivious to it and found it curious that Sheppard would let her see it.

"Colonel," T'Pol called, summoning both as the two Air Force officers cleared the room. She noted Dr. McKay stewing quietly behind her and ignored him. "There may be a way to retrieve Major Jeeter's memories from his incarceration."

"You mean hypnosis?" Carter asked stepping closer to T'Pol.

"No," T'Pol remarked trailing her gaze from Carter to Sheppard. "My people have the ability to connect with another through a telepathic bond. It can be used to help an individual relive traumatic events and recall memories."

"Wouldn't the person need to sensitive to telepathy?" Sheppard asked T'Pol.

"While beneficial, it is not necessary," T'Pol assured him. "I have successfully performed the link with Humans," she added anticipating his next question.

"Is it safe?" Carter asked.

"Yes. The only side effect for Major Jeeter will be a slight headache," T'Pol replied.

"What about for you and your baby?" Carter questioned.

"In his conscious state, my risk of injury is minimal," T'Pol said.

"You didn't answer Colonel Carter's question," Sheppard replied keenly picking up on how she skirted the issue. "You aren't carrying a fully Vulcan child T'Pol." He paused for a moment and held her gaze. _Kirstin wouldn't want you to risk your child's health for her rescue, _he thought trying to mentally tell her that he was on to her.

T'Pol heard his thoughts clearly in her head. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Colonel, I assure you, the risk to me or my child is minimal. A mild headache will be the only long term effect. If it will make you more comfortable, Dr. Narula and Dr. Keller could monitor my condition during the entire link."

"Jen?" Carter prompted Keller for her response.

"T'Pol knows what her body can handle better than most of us," Keller replied confidently. "We can set up monitors to watch the fetus' vital signs and T'Pol's as well."

"Okay, how soon can we get started?" Carter asked Narula.

"Major Jeeter needs a few hours rest," Dr. Narula remarked. "Why don't we shoot for eleven o'clock?"

"I'll need time to prepare myself," T'Pol interjected.

Sheppard watched her warily and glanced around at the others, but no one else seemed to notice. _Maybe I'm just being paranoid, _John thought as he remembered Carter's warning about losing perspective. "Fine," he replied. After agreeing to reconvene in the Infirmary at eleven hundred hours, Sheppard followed T'Pol from the room. "T'Pol," he called getting her attention. He stepped to the side and let everyone pass. "Are you sure about this?"

"Colonel, as I said," she started to say but stopped when he held his hand up.

"I know what you said, but something just seems off," John remarked. "Are you feeling okay?"

It didn't surprise her that Sheppard could read her. _He gets you, _was what Lieutenant Bowyer had said yesterday. T'Pol had suspected for weeks that she could communicate with him non-verbally and being able to read his thoughts just a minute ago confirmed it. It was pointless to try to lie to him, because like Archer or Tucker, he'd probably just figure it out anyway. "As I said, I need to prepare myself and clear my mind with meditation," she remarked, giving him a _look _that told another story.

"Meditation? Sheppard repeated quizzically. He picked up on it right away and was intrigued that she would allude to it so openly with him. _She's going to meditate alright … That must be the Vulcan code word for jerking off, _he pondered to himself. "Yeah, well its probably best to clear your mind before you link with Jeeter. God knows what kind of filth is roaming around in his mind."

* * *

Her tactic didn't work. Whatever inroads she thought she had made with Michael crumpled in minutes when he injected her with the liquid from the syringe. Kirstin had what she could only describe as an allergic reaction to it as it burned through her system causing her to flinch and scream in pain. Michael stood at her side and watched in fascination, apparently gaining some perverse pleasure in it all and then just when Kirstin thought the worst was over he did it to her again. It continued for hours. Sometimes she would ride it out with her eyes open, watching him watch her out of her peripheral vision. Other times she would close her eyes and struggle to retain her strength.

_He's trying to break me, _Kirstin told herself as tears escape the corners of her eyes. She gritted her teeth as the searing pain tried to envelope her senses. _I will not give in! I will not beg for him to stop! _She said the words over an over in her head as the venom surged through her veins taunting her resolve. At one point Michael informed her that sexual contact would lessen the pain. _Sexual contact only because it will distract me! _she thought turning her head toward the wall. _I will not compromise my principals or my dignity. He will not take me willingly. __That which does not kill you makes you stronger, _she reminded herself. _I survived living on the streets of Chicago, I can lie on this bed and put up with this pain. Trip put up with a lot worse for eight months, I've only been here a day. _

As Kirstin lay withering in pain she realized the sun was rising. _Make that two days, she_ counted mentally. _John is coming for me, I know he is. Rodney or Zelenka pulled the last twenty or so gate addresses from the crystals and it's just going to be a matter of time before they are here, _she told herself, trying to remain hopeful.

Mackenzie heard Michael's movement next to her bed and turned to glare at him knowing full well what he was doing. She watched him squirt the liquid into her tubing and felt her heart rate increase immediately as her body tried to cope with the intrusion. "I hope you're getting your jollies out of watching my reaction," she gasped as pain riddled every nerve ending.

"You are resilient my love, probably the strongest human I have met," he replied looking over at her.

"I thought I was clear yesterday about those terms of endearment you keep using," Mackenzie panted struggling against the burning sensation. "**I am not your lover!**" she screamed loudly enunciating every word.

"I know you think that Colonel Sheppard has been the one sharing your bed my love, but that was trick I played on you so you would be more accepting of me," Michael remarked running his finger tips down her arms and over her sensitive breasts.

Kirstin swallowed hard, her breathing heavy in her throat. "You have a confidence problem or something? You can't get women on your own so you impersonate other people that are better looking?" she asked breathlessly.

"I assure you I have no problem with females," Michael chuckled at her. "Many of my followers take care of my physical needs."

"Oh, then you don't really need me then do you?"

"On the contrary, you are the only one I truly need," Michael replied cupping her face in his hand and catching a tear with his thumb.

If Mackenzie hadn't had her wits about her, she knew that she could almost believe that he truly cared for her. The expression in his eye was soft and his touch had a genuine quality about it. He was right about her body reacting to him. Each time he touched her, she could feel her nipples tighten and her core become tingly wet. She shook the thought out of her head. _Almost, _she thought as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. _He is not my lover. I shared my bed with John Sheppard not this Michael freak! _Kirstin reminded herself. "You know Michael, what I don't understand is … if you love me so much than why are you torturing me?"

"I'm treating you with the same respect that Colonel Sheppard afforded me," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kirstin asked looking straight into his eyes.

"Sheppard turned me into a human against my will," Michael sneered, his voice riddled with contempt.

"Turned you …. " Mackenzie muttered and shook her head. "I'm sorry, biology isn't really my thing, but there no way he could turn you into a human without you having some human DNA."

"My species evolved from humans," Michael growled at her.

"Oh, well that explains things," Mackenzie mumbled arching her neck to relax her frozen muscles in her back. "Well, what the hell is wrong with being human? You look human and you have a human name."

"My species is immortal," Michael replied flatly.

"That's a selling point? Trust me, there is something to be said about the ability to die … for one you never have to pay taxes or make another student loan payment," Mackenzie gasped feeling her whole body tense up beneath her.

Michael turned his attention toward the monitors and picked up another needle. He filled the syringe with three times the dosage as before. "You're body is not responding to the medication the way I had anticipated. I'll need to increase the dosage," he told her looking back at her body, still trembling from the previous treatment. "You can stop this Kirstin, just by opening yourself to me," he added pushing to needle into to the port in her arm.

"As if opening myself to you would truly put a stop to this?" she scoffed. "I wasn't born yesterday buddy! You have vengeance in your veins. You're going to take what you want one way or another. Don't expect me to make it easy."

"Ah, but if you were willing, it would be less painful," Michael replied. With that he plunged the medication into the port and chuckled sadistically as it took its effect on her.

* * *

Rodney stood nervously outside of T'Pol quarters and waved his hand over the door chime. When the door slid open he stepped in and darted his eyes around the room looking for T'Pol. "You, ah … wanted to see me?" Rodney asked walking in tentatively.

"I require your assistance," T'Pol replied walking toward him from the side of the room.

Rodney eyed her carefully. She was dressed in a slinky silk bathrobe that hugged her body a little too provocatively. "I've never been in your room before," he stammered averting his eyes. "It's bigger than my room, I'm jealous." He saw the baby crib in the corner and walked over to it. "Did you get this on Earth when you were there?"

"Commander Doyle and I picked it out," T'Pol said walking over to the side of the bed.

He rolled his eyes at the mention of Doyle's name. "Oh," he mumbled tapping his hand on the crib rail. "So what did you need?"

"It is best that I _relax _before I meld with Major Jeeter," she remarked emphasizing _relax. _"Do you remember the neuro pressure technique that I showed you?"

"You mean when I pressed on your back and neck?" he asked point his hand at the back of his neck.

"Yes," T'Pol replied. "I need you to perform them on me again in addition to several others." She sat on the bed and patted the mattress. "Join me."

Rodney's eyes popped open. "You want to do it on your bed?" he stuttered. "Last time we did it in the lab!"

"The nodes that require stimulation are in more intimate areas," T'Pol replied.

"Are you sure you want me to do it?" Rodney asked not moving from the other side of the room.

"Yes Rodney," T'Pol answered getting up from the bed and walking over to get him. She latched onto his arm before he had a chance to back away. "I will instruct you where to apply pressure."

McKay allowed her to drag him over to the bed and he settled on the mattress behind her. His jaw dropped to the floor as she removed her robe and revealed that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. He could feel his arousal stiffen in his drawers. _Whoever said pregnant women were beautiful obviously knew what they were talking about,_ he thought clearing his throat. "Ah, where do you want me to start?"

The pressure was a double edge sword to T'Pol's nerves. While it offered her relief from the tension building under the nodes, Rodney's touch ignited the desire inside that she had been trying to bury for weeks. She could feel the tightness in her breast as her nipples puckered under her fingertips. Her core between her legs was becoming hot with every movement of his hand. Rodney was hardly her first choice in an intimate partner. Colonel Sheppard was more her type … understanding her like Archer and Tucker could. But Sheppard was unavailable and McKay was sitting right behind her.

T'Pol blinked and tried to concentrate on the floor in front of her. She counted out her breaths as an image of a passion filled moment flitted through her mind. A feral sensation began to grow within her chest, reminding her oddly of the day she was trapped in decon with Phlox. But she wasn't in a five by five room and the man sitting behind her wouldn't rebuff her advances. _Would he? _

"Agh!" Rodney yelped when T'Pol suddenly turned and shoved him down on the bed. She had him pinned tightly, all her naked beauty hovering over his very interested body. "What are you doing?" he asked nervously looking up into her eyes.

T'Pol tilted her head and tried to regain control. "The next series of postures will require _deep _intimate contact," she hissed looking down at him with lustful eyes.

"Okay," he replied slowly. "And that required you to attack me? You could have just asked."

"Would you have said yes?" T'Pol growled running her nose up the side of his neck.

"We'll never know will we?" Rodney squeaked. He could feel her breasts rubbing against his chest. His arousal was demanding release. Before he could say another word, he could feel her rubbing it. "T'Pol!"

"I know you want me!" she practically purred.

"Eyeeyea…." he stammered as he tried in vain to control the situation. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back from him. "I thought you said at breakfast that our relationship didn't have a romantic quality to it?"

"It doesn't," she replied wriggling free from his gasp and running her fingers through his hair. She turned his head to the side and placed delicate kisses down the side of his neck. T'Pol could hear him gasp as she licked his pulse point and then nibbled on it gently.

Rodney felt his resolve melting away. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling. "Wait! You just want to have meaningless casual sex?" he mumbled. "With me?"

"Yes," T'Pol replied frankly. "I've seen the way you look at me. You want me, you've been dreaming about this for weeks….those lustful thoughts of banging me over your desk in the lab. You are already aroused Rodney," she added breathlessly as she nipped at his lips.

How could he argue with that? It was like she had read his mind. He had every one of those thoughts and more. McKay captured her lips with his and slid his arms around her back. The kiss was passionate and deep. _Is this really happening? _he asked as he snapped his eyes opened and tried to mentally pinch himself. He found T'Pol staring intently into his eye, beckoning him into her web.

"Rodney," she whispered seductively in his ear.

"Yes?" he answered half expecting to get slapped.

"Take your clothes off," she commanded rolling onto her side.

_Shit! _he thought scrambling off the bed and complying with her order. _This is really fricken happening. I'm going to sleep with an alien!_

An hour later Rodney managed to stumbled out of her quarters and head back to his room to take a shower. He could barely see straight and still felt like every nerve ending was on overload. Maybe sleeping with her wasn't the right term to use to describe what had just happened to him. _What happened to me was that T'Pol used me like an interactive dildo, _he surmised slowing his walk and putting his hand on the wall to catch his breath. He was still having difficulty believing 'it' had actually happened at all … and if it weren't for his aching dick in his shorts, he would have thought he imagined it. Not that he was complaining though especially since she had informed him that it would probably need to occur again in the next couple of days or weeks.

_If the skin on my dick grows back by then, _he cursed and adjusted himself. He glanced around to see if anyone was watching and then started walking again. Slowly.

Without any fanfare or foreplay, T'Pol straddled him and impaled herself on his arousal. The opening to her core clamped down on his dick like an iris, putting a strangle hold on him. He did exactly what she had asked of him, applying the right amount of pressure to the nodes deep within her core out of fear that she would rip his dick off. Then after she was adequately satisfied, she relaxed a bit and allowed him to have his orgasm, which lasted all of six seconds.

_A humiliating six seconds at that, _Rodney mused appalled that he actually agreed to oblige her whenever she needed it. And the romantic quality that one normally would expect in any intimate encounter was a big fat zero! _Even a prostitute lets you bask in the afterglow. T'Pol … no, it's just get out! _Rodney shook his head and looked at the walkway in front of him quietly berating himself for low he stooped too … albeit willingly.

* * *

Chuck heard Colonel Sheppard's footfall on the stairs to the control and sighed. It was the twentieth time in the past two hours Sheppard had made a loop through the control room and just hung out for a few minutes. It was putting everyone on edge to say the least.

"Any lock on those addresses Chuck?" Sheppard asked him as he stepped to the console.

"No, sir," Chuck replied eyeing the Colonel warily. _That's the fifth time he's asked that, _Chuck thought. "I haven't actually worked on the gate addresses sir," Chuck finally admitted.

"Why not?" Sheppard implored leaning over the desk.

"Dr. McKay has all the data on his laptop sir," Chuck explained rolling his chair back a couple of inches. "He hasn't been up here at all this morning."

"What?" Sheppard screamed looking at his watch. It was ten hundred hours. "Where the frick! I saw him last three hours ago," John growled grabbing a radio off the console. "McKay? Sheppard!" he snapped into the mic.

After an agonizing few seconds Rodney finally answered the call. "Yeah?"

"Before you say another word, you better be telling me that you're in your lab working on the gate addresses!" Sheppard caustically growled into the radio.

Silence dominated the radio line. Chuck brought up the city scanners and tried to pinpoint McKay's location. "There's no one in his lab sir," he informed Sheppard.

"Rodney?" Sheppard called demanding an answer.

"I…aye… ah," was the garbled answer from McKay.

"What have you been doing for the last three hours?" Sheppard asked him tersely.

Chuck looked up at the Colonel and back at the other technicians in the room. He pushed his chair back and bailed away from the console and any repercussions of Sheppard's wrath.

"McKay! Answer me!"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

No infringement bla bla bla

A/N. I dropped some f-bombs in this chapter ... just wanted to forewarn you.

Chapter 9

"What do I need to do?" Major Jeeter asked running his hand over his bald head nervously. He looked at T'Pol, Dr. Heightmeyer, Dr. Keller, Colonel Carter and Colonel Sheppard who were standing next to the bed. "I've never been able to be hypnotized."

"There is no hypnosis involved Major. Once the connection is made you will feel my presence in your mind. I will help you to filter out the static of your memories and observe the events as they unfold," T'Pol said calmly.

T'Pol walked to the right side of the bed and sat down on the edge. Dr. Keller applied the cortical and the fetal monitor to her as Jeeter watched warily. He leaned his head back on the pillow and took a deep breath.

"Relax Major," Colonel Sheppard instructed from the foot of the bed. "It won't hurt a bit."

T'Pol looked at the monitor and noted his increased heart rate. She picked up his hand and ran her fingertips gently over his palm. "Close your eyes and imagine you are listening to the sound of waves crashing against the shore," she said softly.

Jeeter nodded his head and closed his eyes. The pressure of her finger tips on his hand was comforting. As he relaxed into it, he almost felt like he was lying on the sand, taking in the sun as the ocean water tickled his feet. After a few minutes he sighed and opened his eyes. "Wow," he chuckled scanning the room. Carter and Sheppard were still standing at the end of his bed. Heightmeyer was on one side and T'Pol was sitting on the mattress next to him. "I actually felt like I …. Is that what its going to be like?" he asked.

"We're ready," Keller said adjusting the monitor in front of her.

"The actual sensation will be different," T'Pol answered the Major still holding his hand. "It should go smoothly since you were receptive to the relaxation technique."

"If you say so," Jeeter commented.

"To make the link, I need to touch the side of your face. I assure you I will not put any unnecessary pressure on your bruises," T'Pol told him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Jeeter said waving his hand to move things along. "Just hurry up and get it over with."

T'Pol placed her right hand against Jeeter's face. "Major, close your eyes and exhale slowly. Listen to the sound of my voice. My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts."

Jeeter did as she said, inhaling and exhaling slowly. _This isn't going to work, _he thought sinking into his pillow. Then as quick as he had thought it, she was there. He inhaled sharply. _Can you hear me? _Jeeter could sense T'Pol's voice in his head, but knew she hadn't said anything aloud. He looked at her without opening his eyes. She stood next to him on M874-37A as Lorne and Mackenzie were engaged in the gun battle. Sullivan lay dead on the ground several feet away. Jeeter stared at T'Pol in disbelief. She was dressed in her cargo pants, boots and maternity blouse. _Yes, _he answered. _That's all you wore? You're going to get cold. _

"I will not experience the elements as you sort through your memories Major," T'Pol said aloud to indicate to the others that she had made the connection. "This is where you engaged in the battle?" she asked him looking down at Mackenzie and Lorne.

"Yeah, they appeared from other there," Jeeter remarked pointing deeper into the trees. Jeeter looked over at her and noticed her head tilted at a peculiar angle. "What is it?"

"I hear something," T'Pol asked. Just as she turned her head, Jeeter was hit with a stunner blast. The true form of him winced and moaned in pain as his body crumpled to the snow. The observer sat up from where he lay and looked up at the sky.

"That was a wraith dart," he said standing up. He looked down at himself and around at his team mates. They all had been stunned. Men were circling their bodies quickly and removing their obvious weapons.

"Do you recognize the men?" T'Pol asked stepping to the side as one approached Jeeter's form.

"Nah," he said watching the man strip his of his weapons. "That gun he is carrying is Genii though."

"And the stunner? Why would he have it?"

"A trophy of sorts," Jeeter said with a smirk. "What better weapon to shoot the Wraith with than their own guns?"

"Seems to be a theme since you were shot with your own weapon," T'Pol remarked arching her brow at him.

"Okay, this is weird," he mumbled looking down at his unconscious body. "How can I remember all of this while I was knocked out?"

"Your brain is functioning continuously. Whether you consciously remember it or not you heard and sensed your attackers surround you," T'Pol stepped around his unconscious body and squatted next to him. She reached over and touched his eyelid. "Your eyes are still open. You picked up images even though you weren't consciously aware of what they were or how to process them."

"Ah, that's why you called it static," Jeeter said nodding his head. He heard the dart approach and saw the sweeper beam coming toward them. "It's a sweeper," he added right when everything went black in his mind. The next memory Jeeter had was waking up on the ground in a much warmer climate.

"Do you recognize the planet?" T'Pol asked as she helped him get to his feet.

"No, I guess I wasn't just imagining how fricken hot it was here," Jeeter said looking around. "It seems too modern to be a world in the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Perhaps you traveled to another galaxy," T'Pol remarked.

"I don't know of another gate that can dial another galaxy," Jeeter said. "Hey! Hey hey! Leave her alone!" he yelled as he watched one of the guards start to beat up Mackenzie.

"Major," T'Pol called to him grabbing his arm. "You cannot change the events."

"Yeah," he replied ruefully as the guards took out their aggression on his team mate. He watched as his original form staggered over to fight back. "Well, at least I tried."

Colonel Sheppard walked out of Jeeter's room with his hands behind his head. The picture was crystal clear in his mind. Mackenzie had probably mouthed off to the guard or tried to break away and ended up paying the price. There was no question that Jeeter or Lorne would defend her, shit anyone of his men would have done it for any other teammate, regardless of gender. John could only image was the abductors did to her. _Cowards always prey on the weak_, he told himself. Mackenzie was far from weak, but she was female and that was almost worse.

John left the infirmary and wandered the corridors trying to get control of his perspective. Regardless of the galaxy, the power hungry bad guys always seem to try to fortify their positions by threatening females with physical violence. _She's tough, _John tried to tell himself. _She's a marine, a MACO as they're called in her century. She's trained for this, to resist this exact type of attack, to outsmart her abductors. _He closed his eyes and bit his lip. _As long as she doesn't have a panic attack, _he thought.

* * *

"Mac, wake up! Can you hear me?" Lorne started down at her lifeless face and knuckled the middle of her chest. She barely flinched. She looked like hell. Her face looked at lot like his felt, swollen, red and puffy. Lorne shook her shoulder again. "Mac, come on, wake up! We need to move Marine!" he prodded her. "Where are her clothes?"

"In the wardrobe," a female voice said quietly in the background.

Somehow the second voice finally got through to her. Mackenzie's eyelids fluttered open slowly and the machine monitoring her heart kicked up a notch. "Major? she finally squeaked out.

"Mac! Good, get up, get dressed, we have a very small window to get out of here," he said. The female handed him Mackenzie's clothes and he tossed them on the bed. He motioned to her feet and started to unwrap the restraints on her arms. "Can you help her?" he asked the woman and turned his attention when she nodded.

Lorne quickly pulled the IV line out of the port on her arm and disconnected the wires for the heart monitor on her chest. "Mac, you're not moving," he muttered when he realized Mackenzie was still lying motionless on the bed. The female had managed to pull her socks on and was struggling to get the T-shirt over her head without exposing her naked body to him.

"Mac, look at me," he said pulling Kirstin's chin to the right so he could look her in the eye. "Do you know who I am?"

"Major," she muttered struggling to keep her eyes open.

"What's the alpha-numeric designation of your ship?" Lorne asked her trying to get her to concentrate. The fogged over look in her eyes scared the crap out of him. Both of her pupils were dilated. It was clear whatever Michael had pumped into her system the past day and a half had severely affected her brain. He tried a different tactic with her. At her very core Mackenzie was a soldier and would respond to any order he gave her. _In theory anyway, _he reminded himself. "Major?" he prompted trying to bring her back to ground zero.

"NX oh one," Mackenzie muttered barely audible.

"And the name?" he continued pulling her arm up and threading it through the sleeve of her shirt.

"USS Ronald Reagan."

_Cuz you can fly that into space, _he thought chuckling quietly. Whether it was a sign that she understood him was still a bit of a mystery. _Gawd only knows what that dip fuck did to her … she probably thinks I'm him and is just trying to throw me off, _Lorne thought as he pulled her sweater over her head. "The name of the soccer team in your home town?"

"Fire."

"The worst football team in the league?"

"Bears,"

"Ooh, don't tell Sheppard that," he winced as he threaded her arm through the sleeve. "And McKay's favorite fruit?"

"Lemons," Mackenzie said as her eyes focused in on the face above her. "Lorne?"

"Yeah, it's me," Lorne replied as relief washed over his face. He ran his hand over her forehead to comfort her and was surprised when she jerked her head back reflexively. Lorne couldn't worry about her reaction for long, they needed to get out of the building and quick. "Come on, we gotta go. Get your pants on Marine. I'll watch the door." He grabbed her under the arm and pulled her into a sitting position. "I got ya," he comforted her when the color started to drain from her face. "Deep breaths."

"Who is?" Mackenzie muttered eyeing the woman carefully.

"Don't worry about that just let her help you Major, that's an order!" he barked when he realized she was just going to continue arguing with him.

"It's the serum," the female said as she helped Kirstin get into the too big pants. "It does something to the mind."

"Yeah, I know," Lorne remarked heading for the door. He peered out into the hallway and looked back to check on their progress.

"I need to pee," Kirstin muttered as she stumbled from the bed toward the latrine.

Lorne looked at his watch. _Twelve thirty Atlantis time, _he noted. _Michael left in the dart six minutes ago. Three flights down to the door that leads to the back of the building where the dart is parked, _he went over the plan in his head and thought through every scenario as he waiting for her.

"What's taking so long Major?" he asked getting impatient with her.

"Youz lay on a bed fer diry sx erz wit IV beinumped inna ewe an seez owe fass ewecanpee," her muffled voice slurred from being the door.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Lorne quipped not having a clear idea of what she just said.

"I don't feel so hot," she slurred. "Like I'm drunk."

"It's the serum," the female said again. "It does something to your mind."

"Yeah," Kirstin said quietly cursing under her breath. "I heard ta fir time, barely." She walked out of the latrine. "Lorne, givemeya belt," she said as she squatted down to tie her boot. She lost her balance and fell over on her side and then started to laugh uncontrollably.

"What?" he asked with a confused expression on his face. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he left the door and walked to her side to help her get up.

"I needa bell," she pleaded with him as she stood up. The pants slipped from her waist and bunched around her knees. . "Thezr Sheppard's pantz."

"You're wearing Sheppard's pants?" he guffawed as he diverted his stare at the wall instead of her bare bottom. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his pants. _Sheppard is going to kill me, _he thought as he handed it to her and helped her pull her pants back up. "Move it Major!" he reminded her as she fumbled to weave the belt through the loops.

It took another minute, but finally Mackenzie was ready to go. "We've gotta get out of here," he mumbled looking at his watch. "That took way too long." Lorne looked back at the female that assisted him. "Are you sure about this?"

"It's the only way. Michael will feed on me if he discovers my disloyalty," she replied flatly.

Lorne sighed and reached into Mackenzie's vest, pulling the phase pistol from the interior pocket. He pushed to control to the kill setting and aimed it at the woman. Before Mackenzie could even protest, Lorne shot the female straight through the heart. "Don't look back," he ordered grabbing Kirstin by the arm and pulling her out of the room.

The dart was parked right where female had said it would be. While the two majors made it there without any resistance, the trek was hardly trouble free. Mackenzie's inability to walk in a straight line and her uncontrollable laughter all hampered their ability to be stealthy. Lorne had to carry her down at least two flights of stairs when her legs gave out and she couldn't stand up on her own. He was also forced to cover her mouth to muffle her laughter as they snuck through the hallways. _And to think she led a strike team, _he wondered as he pushed her toward the exit door.

"Mac, come on! Snap out of it," Lorne growled at her when they exited the building and started to head to the dart. He had had about enough, it took every fiber of his being not to stun her and throw her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

"I can't," Mackenzie said tripping over the thick grass and taking a nose dive into the dirt. "I need to rest. I feel like I'm going to barf," she mumbled as her stomach lurched and she started to cough uncontrollably.

Lorne turned back to look at her. He could hardly be mad about her condition. The girl … whatever her name was … had told him that Michael had been drugging Mackenzie for two days and was trying to turn into one of his kind. _Whatever that is, _Lorne thought. _Wraith, not wraith, human hybrid, all of the above_. In any case, it didn't matter at this moment, he needed to get Mackenzie to the dart and fly them the hell out of here before Michael returned. Lorne squatted down next to Mac and put his hand under her arm.

"Major on your feet," he said sternly. "The dart is just a few feet away. We need to make it there in order to get home."

"Okay," Mackenzie mumbled spitting phlegm out of her mouth. She gasped and took a couple of deep breaths and then let Lorne pull her to her feet.

Lorne kept a tight hold on her arm as they snuck toward the dart. "There is only room for one in the cockpit, so I'll get in and then come around and pick you up with the sweeper," he told her as the rounded the corner of the building by the dart.

He barely had time to finish his sentence as a stunner blast whizzed over his head. Lorne shoved Mackenzie to the left as he dived the opposite way. Three more blasts whipped through the air from across the court yard before Lorne could figure out where they were coming from. He finally located the source, one of Michael's _brothers _….a wraith/hybrid that was at the Alpha site. _I think Becket named that dude Victor, _Lorne's brain rambled as he tried to plan out how he was going to get to the dart and then fly back for Mackenzie. He looked to the left to see what she was doing or where she had landed and found her cowered behind an overgrown potted plant.

"Mac!" he whispered tersely. He could see her whole body trembling as she squatted behind the plant. He motioned to her with a couple of hand signals that he was going to head toward the dart. Mac nodded her head that she understood. _At least I hope that's what she was doing, _he said in his head and he attempted to sneak around his cover. _For all I know she about ready to hurl again. _

_Lorne's going to the dart, _Mackenzie told herself as she remained ducked behind the concrete planter. She could feel her heart racing in her chest and her breathing was labored. Everything hurt and the pain nearly doubled her over. _I'm really not feeling so hot. Keep your head, keep your head, _she rambled as she peeked out at her surroundings.

The person shooting at them was nowhere in sight, which worried Mac a bit. She looked around and made a break from her cover to where Lorne had been crouching just seconds ago. _Get the knife, _she told herself pulling it out of her vest and palming it. Kirstin blinked a couple of times as she felt dizzy and looked down at the ground to get her bearings. Her hands were trembling and she was nearly hyperventilating. She could feel sweat beading on her brow and running down her back. _Pull yourself together Mac! You're a soldier not a lunatic! _Mackenzie looked up and checked her surroundings again. There was no sign of the shooter and Lorne was still working his way to the dart. "That thing is more than a few feet away," Mackenzie muttered under her breath.

The next sound she heard was the familiar sizzle of a stunner. Mackenzie snapped her head around only to see Lorne crumple to the ground. "Frak!" Mac cursed pulling herself into a defensive position. "I'm frakked now," she added.

Mackenzie bit her lip and surveyed her situation. Lorne was flat on his back about twenty yards from her position. The dart was about another twenty or so yards from there. There was little cover between her and the dart. _Maybe if I had my phase pistol or a P-90 I'd feel more confident about this, _she thought as she tried to figure out her plan. It was simple really, she needed to get to Lorne and then to the dart and then she would fly it out of here. _I can fly it. Up, down, left, right … I can figure it out. _

The truth was, Mackenzie _did_ have a good idea how to fly the dart. Sheppard had given her lessons on the simulator on a couple of "date nights" only because she had begged him too. Kirstin wanted to make sure she was as useful as possible on Atlantis so there would be no misunderstanding why she had decided to stay. The scientist in her fed her need for knowledge by absorbing all the information she could on the Ancient language, the Wraith language and anything else that anyone deemed useful on the base. The problem was, with all the toxins in her system, her ability to concentrate and pull that information from her mental rolodex was severely hampered. Even now as she worked out her plan she found herself spacing out. When she heard a footfall a few feet from her, she _woke up_, literally, only to find out she has been staring blindly at the ground for several minutes.

"Dammit," she cursed shaking the cobwebs out of her head. She peered out from behind the corner of the building and saw a bald man standing less than fifteen feet from her. He looked like Michael, same florescent skin tone, same misplaced nostrils.

Ready or not, it was time to make her move. Kirstin launched her knife at the shooter and made a break for the dart. She heard the man scream out in pain, but could tell from his thrashing around that it missed its intended mark. "Nice," she muttered under her breath as she neared Lorne.

Fueled strictly on adrenaline, Kirstin stooped to pull the major into her arms and flip him over her shoulder in a fireman carry. She grabbed the phase pistol off the ground and shoved it into her pant pocket. With a loud grunt she stood and made her way to the dart. What she hadn't prepared for was her physical weakness. The lack of energy in her system and whatever poison Michael had injected her were acting as obstacles in her path. She tried to run, but her feet felt heavy and she kept stumbling. She tried to walk but her arms and back felt like they were about to give out. Before it even registered she had fell hard to the ground and dropped Lorne off her shoulder. _Get the frak up! The enemy is coming Mac! _she berated herself as she scrambled to her feet. She stood still, her vision blurred and turned around in confusion, momentarily forgetting what she needed to do.

_Kirstin. _She sensed the word in her head and recoiled as a memory of Michael touching her crept into her mind. _Stop it! He did not break me! _she screamed at herself as she stood frozen in the yard. _Get in the dart! Get in the dart! _she yelled in her head realizing her stupidity for letting him suck her in again.

Her hesitation was her fatal flaw. The shooter grabbed her arm and whirled her around before she could understand what was happening. "Where do you think you are going my love?" the man said as he squeezed her arm tightly.

"I am not you or … or Michael's love," she said caustically as a jumble of images flooded her mind. Some of them were intimate times with John and in others Michael replaced Sheppard, in her bed, in her arms. _Did he break me? _she questioned herself when none of it made sense. _He's fucking with you! _she reminded herself. "Get your hands off me!" she screamed into the male's face.

Instinct drove Mackenzie to protect herself. She attacked the male in a fury on fingernails, fists and kicks. The brawl was no even match. For every three licks Kirstin got in, the male only laughed and swatted her once. As he got more impatient with her, his hits became more forceful and took their toll on Kirstin's resolve. The crushing blow came when he backhanded her across her already battered left cheek and jaw.

Her body fell to the right and she stumbled to regain her balance, only to trip over Lorne's legs. She knew he had her. _I'm dead, _she thought as her body impacted with the hard ground. Her face was on fire in a way that she never felt before, like it was ripped open. _It probably is ripped open, _she considered as she struggled to keep her eyes open and focus on the image above her. Mackenzie watched the man step toward her. His face was twisted in anger.

"You're not even worth the trouble!" he roared at her. "This is the end of you!" he knelt at her side and pinned her to the ground with his left hand as he eyed her face careful. "You're frightened! I get off on seeing fear when I feed!" The man growled loudly, threw his right hand back and then landed it firmly against her chest.

Mackenzie screamed as his hand impacted her body and she felt her ribs pop under the pressure. The sensation of his fingers and hand cutting into her skin rippled through her brain. Her nerve endings were overloaded with a stinging sensation like her life was draining away and a tingling adrenaline boost. As her brain scrambled to make sense of it all she felt the phase pistol resting heavily against her thigh. _Get it! Get it, Get it, Get it!! _she yelled at herself as she struggled to move. Her effort was useless. Any movement from her arms or legs seemed impossible. She could command her limbs to move in her head, but the neurons wouldn't fire. _I'm dead! _

As quickly as she thought it, the shooter pulled his hand back in surprise. Kirstin stared into his puzzled face and heard only one word reverberate in her head. _MOVE! _She didn't think twice about it. Somehow she managed to get her hand around the barrel of the phase pistol and yank it from her pocket. She pointed it straight at him. **"I told you to get your fucking hands off me!!"** she screamed at him pulling the trigger and holding it until he vaporized in front of her.

Mackenzie lay motionless for a moment trying to catch her breath. Her face was wet from blood or tears or a mixture of both. She closed her eyes and silently wished that Sheppard would just swoop in and rescue her. _That's not going to happen Mac. Get the frick over it. The only person that is going to be doing any rescuing is you. So get on your feet and get the frick out of here! _she scolded herself. Mackenzie put her hand to her face to gauge how badly she was injured. She winced in pain as she poked around her cheek. Her eyes opened wide when she realized her face was sliced open and she could touch her teeth with her fingertips.

_When he backhanded me, _her mind reeled as she fumbled through the pockets of the vest looking for something reflective that would allow her to see the damage. She found her pocket knife and pulled the blade open. Her stomach lurched as she stared at the image looking back at her. Kirstin dropped the knife and turned on her side, coughing up blood, phlegm and bile from her stomach. She gagged as the bitter taste boiled in her throat. She felt weak and her body was riddled in pain. The longer she laid there, the worse everything hurt. _I'm dying, _she cried as she forced her arm under her chest and pushed herself up.

Nausea and dizziness swept over her paralyzing any further movement. Kirstin gulped in fresh air as dry heaves rattled through her systems. She was sick, but there was nothing left in her stomach to throw up. Her body was demanding to pass out, but she refused to give in to it. "I'm not dying here," she vowed through gritted teeth. "I didn't fight for the past two days to be taken out by a paper cut."

Kirstin picked up the phase pistol and popped the power cell out of it. She pointed the weapon at the ground and bled off some of the residual charge. When she was satisfied with what little power remained, she picked up the knife and juggled the knife and phase pistol in her hands until she found the right angle, most comfortable placement for what she was about to do.

"This is stupid," she reminded herself as she pointed the phase pistol at the left side of her face. "I have to do this. If I don't I'm never going home," she added swallowing her fear. _Home …When did Atlantis become home? _she wondered as she fingered the trigger.

Kirstin poked her finger across her cheek one final time mentally marking the start of the laceration and then pushed the trigger. The beam hit her face just under her cheekbone and she slowly and painstaking trailed it to the corner of her mouth. It took less than a few seconds to sear the tissue and skin back together. It seemed like hours as her body tried to process what was happening. Every nerve ending and brain cell was screaming at her to stop. There wasn't even a word in the dictionary that could describe how it felt. Kirstin had to force her eyes open when she could feel the blackness crowding her mind. Her hand was trembling and as she cried out and winced through the scorching whiteness that was flooding her brain. The stench of the burning flesh invaded her nostrils.

In a second it was done and she dropped the weapon to the ground. She closed her eyes and counted to ten as she pushed down the nausea and the weakness that she was shrouded in. _I gotta go, _she told herself looking back at Lorne. "We gotta go."

"Putting my face back together was easier than this," Kirstin yelled to no one as she pushed Lorne's deadweight into the cockpit of the dart and arranged him so he was sitting in the small pilot's chair. "Gawd, he wasn't kidding when he said this seat was only made for one," she grumbled as she tried to fit herself in between Lorne and the dashboard. "Frick Lorne! Lose some weight!" she added as she squeezed between his legs.

"Power? On button, on button, ignition, go? How'dya start this piece of crap … oh, duh_," _Mackenzie rambled as she powered the dart and watched the opaque force field cover the cockpit area. She put her hand against it hesitantly and recoiled when it sizzled at her touch. "Weird," she commented as she tried to focus on the control console. She could feel a dull thud beginning to taunt her behind her eyes. Kirstin blinked several times recalling her simulator training. "I can do this. I have to do this! To the gate and right back home. Five minutes tops!" she tried to motivate herself even though she knew she was lying. _Whatever it takes, _she told herself a minute later when she finally figured out how to get the dart in the air and fly it.

Mackenzie's flight pattern was erratic as best. As her body relaxed in position, she started to lose the adrenaline rush and the intensity of her pain began to hit her square in the face. Her mind was torn between trying to concentrate on maneuvering the dart and succumbing to the odd pressure on every single nerve ending. Blood and mucus was oozing from the holes in her chest from where the shooter had ripped into her flesh when he tried to feed. The side of her face was numb from the make-shift laser suture she had applied to it. And whatever venom had been pumped into her system the past few days was making her sick. The internal war being waged to defend itself from the attack was happening so quickly Kirstin could barely keep up. One minute she was sweating profusely as fever swept over her skin, then seconds later she was shaking uncontrollably. The worst part was Mackenzie could feel herself losing control and it was all she could do to force her eyes open and fight to stay awake.

"Stay awake!!" she screamed aloud to herself when she felt her head bob off her chest. "Frick Mackenzie this is no time to be falling asleep! Where's the frickin gate? Why the hell isn't Lorne waking up? Lorne! Lorne! Frick I need you. Geezus please wake up …. I can't do this anymore. I feel like crap! Where is the gate! Lorne!" Mackenzie cried over and over again, rambling aloud about nothing to force her brain to continue to function. Crashing the ship and dying on this gawd forsaken planet wasn't an option.

She flew the dart around aimlessly for the better part of an hour. "Where's the frickin gate?" she continued to curse aloud, while humming the tune _Rain drops keep falling on my head._ "If I was a gate where would I be? It's a big planet, lots of little cities. I'd be centrally located where everyone can access it. "Cept this place looks too modern and self sufficient so maybe it's in some dumb place that no one knows about." Mackenzie bopped her head as she sang the words of the song quietly encouraging movement in her limbs to keep the blood flowing. It wasn't easy considering she was half sitting on Lorne's lap and pinched against the control panel.

"And why the hell isn't Lorne waking up?" her mind scrambled as she thought about the man she was sitting on. She reached over for his wrist and felt for a pulse. It took a couple of tries, but she finally felt it beating weakly under her fingertips. "Maybe he was drugged too… or maybe he hit his head when he fell, or when I dropped him or when I threw him in the cockpit." She wriggled around to look at him and then slapped him hard across the face. "Lorne? Wake up! Can you hear me? Lorne? Lorne?" she screamed at him trying to elicit some type of response. When he didn't move she raised her hand to hit him again just as the sensor array started to beep.

"Oh frak!" Mackenzie moaned as she interpreted the information on the screen. The good news was the gate was just a couple of clicks away. The bad news was a dart just flew threw it and to make matters worse, was heading her way.

"Evasive maneuvers!" she yelled at no one as the battle began.

* * *

Sheppard ran down the stairs from the control room and rounded the corner to head to the infirmary. He was half way down the hall when he ran into Carter and T'Pol.

"Colonel," Carter called out, her voice echoing off the corridor. "We think have the location."

"Olesia" Sheppard gasped as he skidded to a stop.

"Ha...how did you know?" Carter asked completely shocked. Jeeter had just come to that conclusion in the Infirmary. Actually it wasn't even Jeeter. One of the Marines on security detail outside of the major's room overheard the _conversation _and put two and two together. He had been on the detail to Olesia with Lorne and Dr. Weir two years ago.

"I ran into Eldon in the hallway," Sheppard said cocking his head to the right.

"Eldon?"

"That mousy little technician on Dr. Lombardo's team," Sheppard said waving his hand in the air as he tried to explain.

"An engineer," T'Pol corrected him. "I don't understand the connection."

"We made contact with Olesia a couple of years ago. It was the only planet that was modern and untouched by the Wraith. The gate was on an island away from the mainland," Sheppard explained. He looked at the blank stares of Carter and T'Pol standing in front of him. "Eldon is from there."

"Ah," Carter grunted nodding her head. "Get your team ready. Take a strike team with you."

"Already done. Ronon, Teyla and Rodney are gearing up," Sheppard said. "I was just on my way to tell you."

"There is something else," Carter said hesitantly. "Major Jeeter is certain that Michael is involved."

John felt his body tense at the sound of the name. _If he fricken touched her, I'll kill him. _The words danced in the back of his mind as he reeled his emotion in. "Great," he mumbled tersely and turned to head to the jumper bay.

John, Ronon, Teyla and Rodney were getting squared away in the jumper when the Control Room notified them of an unscheduled gate activation.

"Athosian IDC, audio signal."

"Open the channel," John heard Carter's voice over the jumper speaker.

Halling's frantic voice filled the air waves and John's brain only processed three words. Dart. Gate. Athosians. He didn't need to look at Teyla's face to see the color drain from it. He felt his heart strings tug at him though he knew there wasn't even a choice. As much as it killed him inside, he knew what he needed to do. "Jumper one to flight. Tell Halling we're on the way, then dial the gate," John said flatly. "Jumper one to jumper two lets make quick work of this. Find'em and shoot'em down."

* * *

He awoke to the sounding of electric sizzling. It took all of a second for him to clue into what was happening. "What the frak?" he muttered. _Mackenzie got us to the dart and man are we smashed into this seat. _"We're flying upside down!" Lorne blurted as his head bounced off the force field again.

"Mac can you hear me?" Lorne asked shaking her shoulders. She slumped lifelessly in his hands and he shook his head. He tried to move her to the side to reach around to the control panel. "Geezuskrice, how the frak?" he muttered as he struggled to get to the controls to right the ship.

The dart flipped around with a dizzying snap causing Lorne to practically lose his lunch. He swallowed hard and gulped in air to try to push the feeling away. "Okay, where the frick are we?" Lorne said straining to focus on the control panel. The sensor told him they had just cleared a gate but nothing more. "Other than there's another dart on my six," Lorne commented just as weapons fire glanced the side of the dart. "Frak! Can it get any worse?" he mumbled as he tried to figure out how to operate the weapons array.

* * *

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"If you are referring to that dart trying to blow the other dart out of the sky, then yes I'm seeing that," Rodney McKay answered staring at the HUD and then out the front window of the jumper.

"Do you think Major Lorne is driving it?" Teyla asked from the backseat.

Her misuse of the word made Sheppard smile or maybe it was the relief that he was sure that Lorne was in the driver's seat of the wraith ship. "Can you scan for their life signs?" Sheppard asked McKay as he looked back at Teyla and Ronon and nodded.

"Ah, no! Force field on the dart!" McKay snapped.

"What about their transponders?" Ronon huffed.

"I'm working on it," McKay replied when he caught Sheppard glaring at him.

"Jumper One to Jumper two. I think Lorne is piloting that first dart so concentrate your fire on the second one," Sheppard informed the other team.

"Yes sir. We've detected human bio-signatures in the lead dart," Sergeant Garcia answered.

"Rodney!" Sheppard snarled.

"Hey! They are in the jumper with the upgraded sensor array!" McKay coughed out defensively.

"Why isn't our jumper upgraded?" Ronon asked standing up to hang from the bulkhead door.

"Because Mackenzie and I weren't sure it would work …you know, if the technology would be compatible and gawd forbid that we jack with the Colonel's main ride," McKay explained in a more conversational tone when he thought Ronon had stood up to pound him.

Silence settled over the jumper as Sheppard chased down the dart firing on Lorne. When they were within firing range, John commanded the jumper to fire two drones just as the dart broke hard right. One completely missed the target, the other smashed into the tail end of the first jumper and blew the back end out of it.

"Oh crap!" John mumbled under his breath as a feeling of impending doom crashed over him. _I hope that didn't jink up the sweeper memory core, _his mind raced as he watched the dart spin hopelessly out of control. "Jumper two, you did say you picked up two bio-signatures?" John asked hopeful he didn't kill anyone.

"Yes sir Colonel," Garcia reassured him. "They're both in the cockpit."

"Both in the cockpit," McKay repeated in surprise. "You know how small of space that is? She has to be sitting on his lap."

"Major Mackenzie is very petite," Teyla commented.

"Lorne is a shrimp too," Ronon added.

"What are you saying? That I'm fat?"

Ronon eyeballed McKay and chuckled. "Yeah."

"I take offense to that," McKay replied with a huff.

"Hey! I don't mean to interrupt but we got problems," Sheppard said watching the downward spiral of the dart that contained Mackenzie and Lorne. He brought up the topographical map on the HUD and scowled under his breath. "Don't tell me they are headed for the river!" he cursed.

"Ah, yup! Based on their trajectory I'd say that's exactly where they are heading," McKay confirmed.

"Jumper two, go after the other dart and destroy it. We'll keep tracking Lorne," Sheppard ordered and turned the jumper sharply to the left. "The river is better than the ground right?" he commented as he chased them down.

"Yeah, as long as you survive the initial impact and can swim," Rodney replied sarcastically.

They tracked the dart for several miles. It was obvious whoever was flying it was doing everything possible from crashing it into the ground. Time ran out quickly as the dart suddenly lost control and plunged into the river nose first.

"How deep is the river there?" Sheppard asked aloud as he stared at the display. The computer reacted to him before McKay could respond and brought up a depth meter.

"Twenty feet. The dart is still intact. It's resting on a precipice about fifteen feet down," Rodney reported looking up at the display. "Here," he said pointing. "Bio signatures of both Mackenzie and Lorne. Weak," he added.

"Because they are drowning!" Sheppard remarked getting up from his seat. "Get us down there! Ronon and I'll go after Lorne and Mackenzie. Teyla have the defibrillator ready." He ran to the back of the jumper and started to strip off his gun belt, boots, vest and uniform shirt as Rodney brought the jumper down to a somewhat rough landing. Normally Sheppard would have yelled at him for it, but he didn't have time for that right now. He looked back to the front of the jumper just as Teyla slammed her hand on the hatch control and heard the hatch depressurize behind them.

His next memories were jumbled in his head. Ronon yelled that he would get Lorne so John could concentrate on Mackenzie. The ice cold water against his skin barely registered to his senses as he dove into it. To his benefit the water was crystal clear and he spotted the dart quickly. Finding Mackenzie was another matter. He guessed at her ejection trajectory and swam several feet from it. He searched for her until he ran out of air and then reluctantly surfaced to re-group.

"Sheppard!" Rodney screamed at him from the bank when he popped up in the middle of the river. "That way, twenty feet!" McKay directed pointing upstream from where he was treading water. "Closer to the bank!"

John looked for Ronon before diving again. He found them just down from McKay. Ronon was starting CPR. _Frick! _John cursed before swimming in the direction McKay told him to head. It took two more dives to locate her. He found her floating lifeless in a tangle of weeds and tree limbs. She was so still to him as he snaked his arm under hers and pulled her body upward as he swam. It was a far cry from then their midnight frolics in the lagoon where she was so full of life and laughter. _She's going to laugh again, _he swore to himself as he broke through the surface of the water.

Teyla ran out to meet him and helped carrying Mackenzie to the shore. John was horrified to see the feeding marks on her chest as he ripped her sweater and t-shirt open and began CPR. He counted out thirty compressions and then two breaths as Teyla dried off Mackenzie's skin and attached the defibrillator pads. John started his second set and looked to his right to check on Ronon. He saw Lorne awake, propped up on his side coughing river water out of his lungs. It brought him little relief as he continued to force the life back into his girlfriend.

"Hold CPR," the defibrillator instructed. "Analyzing. Analyzing."

John sat back on his haunches and waited in anticipation. He slowly trailed his gaze across her face taking in the bruising, swelling and scratches. She had bite marks on her neck, down her shoulder and across her left breast. On her chest, the feed marks stood out like a fresh tattoo. The sight of it ignited the anger inside him again and he shuddered at the thought of what she had been through the past few days.

"Stand clear."

"Clear!" Teyla said loudly checking to make sure no part of John was in contact with Mackenzie.

"Shockable, shockable," the machine said as it administered the first shock and after repowering the charge, it hit her again. "Hold CPR. Analyzing. Analyzing. Continue CPR."

"That can't be good," John muttered kneeling back over Mackenzie's chest and starting the series of compressions over.

"Dr. Keller said it might not work the first time," Teyla tried to reassure him.

He didn't say anything as he counted to the compressions in his head. She was right, not that it made him feel any better about it. "Do ya think the enzyme is messing with her heart?" he blurted out as he finished the last compression.

"I don't know," Teyla answered as he completed the rescue breathing. "I'll take over," she said starting compressions before he had a chance to argue.

John sat back on his haunches again and watched Teyla in her series. He heard the second jumper land behind him. "Rodney, tell the Marines to get Lorne back to the base," he said without taking his eyes off Teyla. He didn't need to check to see if Rodney did it because he knew that he would. Somehow Rodney knew how to tow the line in situations like this, which was good because the last thing Sheppard needed right now was to deal with McKay's genius stupidity.

"Hold CPR," the machine instructed when Teyla was halfway through her third set. "Analyzing. Analyzing. Stand clear."

John pulled his leg back from Mackenzie's body and said a silent prayer that this time her heart would start pumping on its own.

"Shockable, shockable," the machine repeated as it sent a jolt through Kirstin's system. John held his breath. "Hold CPR. Analyzing. Analyzing. Continue CPR."

"Frick!" John cursed as Teyla started again. He looked up at Ronon standing next to them.

"Go get a blanket," Sheppard said to him "And the medkit." He watched Ronon run to the jumper. John closed his eyes and said nothing more.

"Sheppard, did you hear me?"

"What?" John stammered when he realized Ronon was talking to him. _He got back from the jumper that quick? _"No, I…"

"I said it doesn't appear that she was fed upon," Ronon repeated squatting down by Mackenzie's head. He turned her head to the left. "This side of her face is normal."

"Then why isn't she waking up?" John growled knowing all too well why she wasn't responding. The side of her face said it all.

"She has a concussion and whew! A lot of chemicals in her system," Rodney said reading the tricorder results as Teyla continued CPR next to him. "It recommends a shot of epinephrine," he added. He reached into the medkit and prepared the hypospray and then handed it to Sheppard.

"Hold CPR," the defibrillator commanded again. Teyla pulled back from the major's body as the machine went through its paces. "Analyzing. Analyzing."

"John, give it to her now!" Rodney practically ordered and John numbly complied.

"Stand Clear. Shockable, Shockable."

Sheppard held his breath again. The defibrillator administered two shocks about fifteen seconds apart and then went back into analyze mode.

"Continue CPR."

"**FUCK!**" Sheppard yelled as he took over compressions from Teyla. "Is that thing even working?" he screamed as he counted out the compressions in his head. "Come on Joes! Don't give up on me!"

Rodney pulled a USB plug from the tricorder and plugged it into the AED. He stared at the screen as the tricorder processed the download of the EKG data and posted the results. "It's working. The medication had an effect, but not enough to restart her heart. I'm going to give her another dose," he said handing the tricorder to Ronon. He prepared the second hypospray and injected it before Sheppard completed his rescue breathing.

"How long until that thing goes back into analyze mode again," Ronon asked trying to make sense of the medical data in front of him.

"Ninety seconds," Sheppard gasped as he continued the compressions. "Rodney get the jumper powered up. If it doesn't work this time we're splitting."

"Right," McKay answered without argument and ran back to the jumper.

"I'll get the stretcher," Teyla said getting up and following McKay.

"Major can you hear me?" Sheppard called to her as he leaned over to deliver the rescue breathing. "You're not going to let Air Force show you up are you? Major Lorne is already on his feet" he whispered in her ear, trying some military psychology on her. He went back to her chest to start the next set of compressions. "Hit the scan button on that," Sheppard motioned to Ronon. "What's it say?"

Ronon arched his brow. "I'm no doctor, but I think this says her heart is beating. Erratically." He shrugged his shoulders and moved to hold the scanner in front of John's face so he could see for himself.

"Yeah," John muttered breathlessly. "That's it Major! Fight!"

"Hold CPR." John sat back and grabbed the tricorder from Ronon's hand. He mentally crossed his fingers as the AED went through its paces for the fourth time. He watched the analysis live on the screen in front of him and flinched as the electric pulse surged through her body.

"Shockable. Shockable."

"Come on Joes!" John pleaded with Kirstin.

"Hold CPR. Analyzing. Analyzing."

The blip on the tricorder caught John's attention before the AED had a chance to inform him of the consequences.

"Sinus Rhythm indicated," John muttered under his breath.

"Cardiac Rhythm," the AED announced. "Please continue to monitor."

"Fuck!" Ronon said breathing a sigh of relief. "Let's get her home," he added picking her up before Sheppard could respond.

* * *

Mackenzie opened her eyes slowly. She wasn't in that prison hospital or even the dart anymore. _This looks like a jumper, _she thought whimpering audibly. She could hear voices around her and looked up at a looming form standing next to her. "Ronon?" she muttered. _Did I say that out loud? _she questioned when she realized her face was numb and her lips felt like they were paralyzed.

"Sheppard, she's awake."

Kirstin sensed the words rather than heard them in her ear. She was still trying to make sense of how she got here. _I was in the dart, _her mind scrambled to put it back together. _Did I pass out? _She felt her eyes drift shut and her body start to fall into protective mode again. _Kirstin. _Mackenzie felt her whole body tense at the sound of her name. _If this was all a fricken dream I'm going to kill that bastard when I open my eyes! _Mac resolved as she forced her lids open again.

She felt her whole body tremble as she tried to make out the form in front of her. Mackenzie blinked trying to focus but after a second it didn't matter if she saw him clearly or not. He smelled like … like the sheets on her bed, like the shirt she was wearing, like her skin after being intimate with him. She could feel the warmth of his skin touching her arm, the sensation was comforting and familiar. "John?" she whispered praying that her lips were really moving this time.

"Hey you," he said uncomfortably as he knelt down next to her. He continued to stroke her arm, afraid to touch her anywhere else.

"Are we going home?" Kirstin asked begging her eyes to focus. Everything in her line of sight was fuzzy and it was starting to scare her.

"Yeah, we're heading back to the base," John replied intertwining his fingers with hers. "We'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"I don't feel so hot," she mumbled.

"Maybe you need some air," John said standing and helping her into a sitting position on the bench seat. He kept his hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Better?"

Kirstin took several short breaths and tried to push away the nausea that was burning in her throat. The uneasy feeling remained. She could feel her body start to tremble and as much as she wanted to pull away from his grasp, she couldn't. _This is John Sheppard not Michael_, she told herself as she started to feel very claustrophobic. "I can't breathe," she whimpered.

"Just relax," Sheppard told her gently running his hand over the back of her neck. "She's burning up. Hand me an ice pack," he said to Ronon. He broke the chemical bubble and shook the bag before putting it on her neck. John noticed her flinch at the pop of the pouch and the recoil when he placed the bag on her skin. He glanced up at Ronon and in a non-verbal way told him that he was worried about her. Very worried. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You're not going to barf are you?"

"Where are we?" Kirstin asked panicked. She felt her heart thudding in her ear.

"We're in the jumper on the way back to Atlantis," he said evenly.

A fleeting memory of a shower raced through her mind and her body shuddered as her wet hair touched the side of her neck. "Why is my hair wet?" she gasped.

"You and Major Lorne escaped in a dart. You took fire from another ship and you crashed into a river. Your clothes and hair are wet because I had to dive into get you." John pushed off the bench seat and stepped in front of her pulling her chin up to meet his gaze. "Mac, do you understand me?"

"My shirt isn't wet," she retorted pulling back from his touch.

"Because it's not your shirt," Sheppard replied frankly. "Its my shirt," he replied pointing at his chest.

She stared at him and said nothing. Her vision was clouded and she struggled to understand just who was standing where and if this was really happening or not. _It looks like a jumper. But if John is standing in front of me, who is flying and where is Teyla? I don't know why they would change my shirt. My chest is killing me. Am I freaking out over nothing or do I want to go home so bad I'll dream anything? _she asked herself. The raw ache inside her body tingled in the back of her mind. She felt the space closing in on her. Kirstin clutched her stomach and leaned over onto her thighs. "He tried to feed on me," she said softly staring down at the floor.

"Michael?" Ronon asked.

"No, one of his guys," Kirstin answered gritting her teeth as she likened the trapped feeling she had when the shooter was above her to the caged emotion she was having now. _If I open my eyes, I better see the ceiling of my hospital room, _Kirstin thought willing herself to wake up. "I vaporized him," she added smugly.

"Good," Ronon replied gruffly.

"Michael was manipulating me," Kirstin stammered gasping for a breath as a stabbing twinge tried to strangle her. _He's trying to make me shut up. My hands are free? My hands are free! _

"Like how?" John prodded to draw her attention away from her pain. She was silent for what seemed like minutes. "Kirstin?" he called her by name to get her attention.

_Kirstin. _She heard Michael's voice loud and clear in her ear. Her vision was still blurry in front of her but it suddenly all made sense. She wasn't in a jumper going back to Atlantis. _We should have been there by now, _she cursed herself for falling into Michael's trap again. She felt his hand touch her skin and run along the side of her face and she jerked her head out of his reach. The rest of her reaction happened quickly. She spied her opportunity and took it.

Mackenzie slammed the heel of her hand into the crotch of the person standing in front of her and he fell backward into the other male. She lashed her foot out defensively and felt it make contact with two brick walls, which crumbled quickly. For one second her vision was crystal clear and she saw the gun-like weapon hanging from the leather holster and swiped it out the pocket. Then she scrambled away to the backside of the room, leveling the weapon on her.

"Get away from me you sonavabitch! You're not going to play games with my mind anymore!" she screamed in their direction.

If there ever was a day that John was thankful he wore a cup, today was definitely that day. It was a direct hit on his testicles and he had no doubt that he would have been doubled over in unrelenting pain if the heel of her hand hadn't impacted with plastic. Even as it was, everything below the belt was stinging as his leg hair and skin was pinched under the unforgiving apparatus. He hardly had time to complain though as he found himself facing the barrel of Ronon's stunner wielded by none other than his girlfriend. Instinct told him to draw his weapon before he had even realized he had it leveled on her.

"Well, this is a familiar sight," he said as he tried to keep it light. Sheppard could see the terror in her face, the confused look in her eye. _She has no idea where she is, _he surmised watching her carefully. _Michael really did a number on her head. _"Kirstin, it's me, John. Lower the weap…"

"Shut the frak up!" she screamed waving the stunner around.

John heard and felt Teyla pull her nine mil behind him. He watched Ronon struggle to his feet next to him. "That thing _is _set on stun right?" he asked Ronon not taking his eyes off Mackenzie.

"Yeah, I think so," Ronon mumbled as he looked for a window to over-power her.

"You _think _so," John retorted rolling his eyes. "Today isn't really the day I'd want to find out that it wasn't." He directed his attention on Kirstin and watched her like a hawk. _She's scared. Maybe I'll just talk her down, _he thought remembering how receptive she was to him the first time they met. "Kirstin…"

Her head jerked around when she heard her name and she put her hands over her ears. "**STOP SAYING MY NAME! YOU ARE NOT MY LOVER!" **

"Mac it's us," Ronon said reassuringly as the tears poured down her face. "I'm sure you're scared, but you're safe now. We rescued you."

"**No, no, no, no**!" she screamed loudly shaking her head. "That's just what you want me to believe because you're fucking with my head! Whatever you put into my body!" Mackenzie looked down at the port still taped to her arm. "You're not going to jack with my memories anymore," she growled reaching over to yank the port from her arm.

Sheppard flinched as he watched her do it. Blood spurted from the exposed vein and the color drained from her face. The pain was starting to affect her physically. _Just a little longer, _he thought as he planned his next move. John holstered his weapon and put his hand on Teyla's pushing it down. _It's not going to do any good to shoot her, _he thought putting his hands in plain view for her to see. "Joes…" he started to say, using his name for her to pull her from the fog. She cut him off before he could continue.

"Don't you fricken listen? I am not your lover!" Kirstin yelled one decibel lower than a scream. She scanned the small space blindly. Her grip on the stunner tightened and she fired a shot into the rubber mat on the floor.

Both Sheppard and Ronon heard the tell-tale sound of the weapon powering up and dove for cover on the bench seats of the jumper. The blast caught the rubber matt on fire and Ronon stomped it out with his boot.

"Rodney take this thing into a barrel roll to your left on my mark!" Sheppard yelled. It was killing him to see Kirstin like this. The dazed confused expression on her face told a story of the torture and torment she had suffered the past few days. The fact that she didn't trust that she was safe only solidified the fact that Michael had hurt her, badly. Her guarded and suspicious response to their conversation reminded him of Major Leonard a year ago. _I'm not going to let it get that far, _he thought as he tried the only thing he knew would reach her. As much as he wanted to grab her and hold her tightly in his arms, he knew she would fight him all the way on it. _She might fight me anyway, but what the hell. _"Major Mackenzie. Do you hear me?" he asked quietly and slowly. When she didn't move he repeated it louder. "Major Mackenzie, do you hear me? Its Colonel Sheppard. Do you recognize me?"

"Colonel?" she whispered barely audible. She cried out in pain as it riddled her body.

"Stand down Major," Sheppard said inching toward her. "No one is going to hurt you."

"**Fuck you Michael****!**" Mackenzie yelled caustically. "I'm not listening to you anymore! It won't work!" Kirstin doubled over and moaned in pain and then realized Sheppard was getting to close. She snapped up right and pointed the stunner directly on him. "Get the frick away from me! You're not going to kill me like you killed Major Jeeter!"

"Major Jeeter's not dead Kirstin," Teyla remarked from the front of the jumper. She was pulling Mackenzie's attention from Sheppard as he continued to get closer to her.

"You're lying!" Mackenzie snarled not understanding where the female voice came from. "You said he was dead."

"Mac, he was playing games with your mind. It was all a trick," Ronon chimed in. "Both Jeeter and Lorne are safe."

"Ronon?" Kirstin mumbled looking wildly toward the direction of Ronon and Teyla's voice.

Her confusion gave Sheppard the one second he needed to make his move. The stunner clattered to the floor as he slammed his arm against her body. "Rodney!"

As the jumper rolled over on its side and Kirstin lost her balance, John managed to take her down to the floor in a defensive hold. It wasn't the most graceful take down he had ever participated in. His initial plan of doing so without hurting her went out the window when a loose hand and sharp fingernail clawed the side of his face. Despite that mere minutes ago she was in cardiac arrest and practically on her death bed, Mackenzie was surprising strong and quick. The struggle that ensued between them and eventually included Ronon and Teyla was a hodge-podge of hands, arms and legs. In the end, Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon had her bucking, wriggling and screaming body pinned to the floor in what could be considered a six point hold.

"Rodney dial the damn gate!" Teyla screeched from the back of the jumper as Mackenzie screamed bloody murder from the floor.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I lost my beta for this story because all three of my roomates were deployed by Uncle Sam. We all have choices in life, some times the military just makes them for us. So, any mistakes in this chapter are mine. I've read it over a couple of times and I think I've caught the glaring obvious ones, although ... I've been a little emotional the past few days ... so please understand.

No Infringement intended.

Chapter 10

T'Pol sighed dejectedly and rolled to her side. She held the sex toy that Kirstin had _loaned _her over the edge of the bed and dropped it on the floor. It was no substitute for a man, a lover or even a chance encounter. _There is no logic in finding pleasure in such activity, _she thought as she stared into nothing. The ache was starting to eat her alive. T'Pol had tried to relieve it all day, with her hand, the shower head and finally resorting to that idiotic penis shaped piece of plastic … all to no avail. Perhaps the baby's head was pushing on something, making her feel this way or his foot was kicking around and hit a nerve ending or maybe …maybe Lieutenant Bowyer was right and she was just down right horny.

Horny in a way that Rodney McKay couldn't cure. T'Pol closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought of 'it'. 'It' had been a mistake and was definitely not going to occur again. T'Pol likened the experience to the stories that Hoshi Sato and Kirstin had told her of a _one-night stand. _'It' seemed to fit the bill in every sense of her understanding. She was horny and invited him to her quarters. She dressed provocatively to entice him … _I was naked under my robe, _she reminded herself. She attacked him. _He didn't resist, not that I gave him much of a chance. _In T'Pol's limited sexual experience it was the worst sex she had ever had. _If it had been my first experience with sex …I would have become a monk. _

It certainly wasn't T'Pol first experience with sex or the sex with an alien. Both Archer and Tucker were alien to her … and yet their first encounters with were erotic passion filled episodes that started as stolen moments and bubbled over into days of euphoric energy. The six or seven minutes that Rodney occupied her bed was none of that. He indulged her to satisfy his own curiosity, but was obviously in over his head. _Perhaps he was a virgin, _T'Pol concluded in an attempt to justify his lack of involvement. Sure he did exactly what she asked of him which allowed her some relief. But never once did her touch her swollen breasts, which were pleading for attention, or finger her bud, which would have strengthened her orgasm. In fact, he barely even touched her. When it was over, he crawled off the bed, dressed and practically ran out of the room.

T'Pol stood and walked to the window. A thunderstorm was hoovering over the city and she watched rain streak the glass. _Perhaps a good workout will clear my head, _she thought turning to walk to her dresser to find her workout clothes.

He watched her shadow boxing in the corner of the room as he went through his warm up routine. There were many things about her that impressed him….her physical strength, her prowess with fighting sticks and in hand-to-hand combat, the intensity of her fighting style, her astute commentary, even her strategic abilities. In the time he had known her, he recognized her passion, her intelligence and dedication. Then there was her beauty …which no man, no reasonable man could deny. Her olive skin, distinguished features and slim, muscular figure were physically appealing to him. It would be easy to get swallowed up in a relationship with her, if he was ready for one. It didn't matter to him that she was carrying someone else's child or that she was an alien. He was an alien too … A Satedean in a land of humans.

"Need a work out partner?" he finally asked breaking the silence.

"Isn't Colonel Sheppard your normal partner at this time?" T'Pol asked bouncing back and forth on her toes.

"Yeah, but he's been spending all his time in the infirmary with Mac," Ronon replied walking toward her. "Every time she wakes up, she freaks out and they have to sedate her."

"Yes, she has been highly agitated since her return," T'Pol remarked.

"Agitated?" Ronon tsked leaning over to pick up his sticks and handing her a set. "That's one way to put it," he commented. He made eye contact with her as she took the sticks from him. There was something different about her today, something different about the look in her eye. "Think you're up to this?" he asked as he circled the workout mat.

"I promise not to hurt you," she replied with an arched brow.

They spared for over an hour. The energy of the room was alive with the crack of the sticks and the grunts of the players welding them. T'Pol's intensity level never faltered, although Ronon's began too as he became distracted. She was distracting him. The sheen of sweat that covered her face glistened in the sunlight that was pouring through the window. Her moves were erotic and alluring, drawing him into a provocative dance. Her scent was stimulating his senses … like an aphrodisiac. Every strike was taunting him, exciting him, charging his arousal as it grew impatient in his pants. He could sense that she was sending him a message and his body was eager to comply.

The moment she let her guard down, he took a chance. He dropped her to the mat in the protection of his arms. Once she was pinned between his arousal and the floor, he brushed his lips against hers and pulled her into a passionate kiss. When she didn't resist, he continued, acutely aware of her hips grinding against him and her fingernails grazing the skin on his back.

Ronon pulled back from the embrace when he heard movement in the corridor. "If you want this to continue, we need to take it somewhere else," he whispered huskily in her ear. "My room is just down the hall," Ronon said as he pulled her up from the floor.

* * *

John Sheppard leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Seventy two hours. Seventy two of the most agonizing hours he had spent in his life. It trumped his court martial after Afghanistan, the months he was stationed in Antarctica, and the weeks he laid in a bed in this very room after being transformed into a bug. None of that held a candle to the heart wrenching helplessness he had endured these past few days.

Sheppard opened his eyes and stared at her fragile body. Kirstin had tubes coming out of nearly every orifice filtering oxygen, blood, saline solution, urine, fat concentrate and a pleura of other liquids in and out of her system. He looked at the monitor above the bed that was carefully watching her respirations, pulse-oxygen levels, heart rate, blood pressure and temperature. All appeared to be normal for the first time in days. Dr. Keller had even removed the restraints from her arms and legs… restraints that John had reluctantly agreed too after Kirstin had pulled all her tubing out not once but twice and held the medical staff at bay on one occasion with a scalpel that someone had carelessly left lying around.

He couldn't decide what was worse … not knowing where she was and have no ability to even decipher how to find her or finding her and not being able to do a damn thing to help her recover. At least when she was lost he didn't have to look at her suffering. Sure his imagination had run wild and even now, he wasn't even sure of the extent of her torture. He could compare it to his own experiences all he wanted but that was weak at best. Men could be raped, beaten and tortured just as much as a woman and they could suffer psychologically from it for years… but somehow it wasn't the same when it was a woman. Men and women were wired differently.

Sitting at her bedside gave him insight to her resiliency and her fight for life. For hours she trembled and sweated profusely as the toxin filtered through her system. She rarely gave into the pain that it caused her, only crying out a few times and fought through it with clenched fists. It surprised John that she seemed to face it fearlessly with more strength than most of the men on his team. It scared him to think what she fighting to get back to and if things were going to be different when she awoke.

Admittedly Sheppard had been a little cocky about her rescue. He had convinced himself that they would find her, and while she might have had some physical injury, like Major Jeeter, in a few days she'd be okay. That all changed when she woke up in the jumper just minutes after being revived with the defibrillator and CPR. Dr. Keller chalked it up to the wraith enzyme and every other toxin in her system. But Keller didn't see that look in Kirstin's eyes … the dazed expression, the confusion, the way she went ballistic when he called her by name and her primal instinct to defend herself even when she was surrounded by friends.

If she even believed he was her friend anymore… John heard the message loud and clear from Heightmeyer. Accepting it was another matter completely. The words Kirstin had blurted out in the jumper … calling out Michael by name and cursing him that he couldn't manipulate her memories, that he couldn't convince her he was her lover, were indications of psychological torture. While it bothered John that she couldn't distinguish between his voice and Michael's, it was clear that she fought Michael's advances. T'Pol had informed Heightmeyer and Keller that Kirstin had the ability to communicate telepathically with T'Pol on a limited basis and had shared what T'Pol called _white space _with her and Teyla during their meditation sessions. It wasn't out of character for Michael to choose a female as his target as he had sensed and taken full advantage of Teyla's vulnerability in the past.

Then there was the other part of his conversation with Heightmeyer that was eating him alive. _The sex talk. _Being a military officer Sheppard had sensitive conversations with all levels of command in his career and always took it as par for the course. Sitting in Heightmeyer's office having a discussion about his sex life with Kirstin was probably one of the most unnerving experiences he ever had in his life. Maybe it would have been easier it the base psychologist was a male and not one of the hottest females on Atlantis. It was one thing to brag to the guys that his girlfriend was into anal sex and liked it the rough …but to tell a woman … and a hot one at that? Not comfortable in any sense of the word.

The purpose of the conversation still mystified him a bit. It wasn't like John didn't get it that things would be different between them sexually. That was a no brainer in his opinion. Did Heightmeyer honestly think he would be that that insensitive to Kirstin's feelings during her recovery? Granted he was hardly the guy to get emotional and touchy-feely about anything. The difference was John knew exactly what Kirstin was experiencing. He had been beaten, tortured and tormented. He knew exactly what it was like to no longer trust your instincts and to fear everything. Worst of all he was an expert on compartmentalizing and burying the experience without ever talking to anyone about it.

John recognized those traits in Kirstin. He was convinced that she never grieved over the loss of Commander Reed and was a little too accepting of Hero's predicament. Yet as strong as she was on the outside, John had small glimpses inside her soul. The panic attacks, the clinginess, the desperation to find something solid to hold on too… all character flaws that the wrong person could capitalize on and extort. Heightmeyer's worry that John wouldn't be sensitive to Kirstin's sexual assault was concern misplaced. Sheppard was going to have his hands full just getting Kirstin to deal with what happened in a manner that didn't destroy anything that she gained since arriving on Atlantis. She could barely breath when she came back from Earth, god only knew what was going to happen when she tried to live after she woke up.

"Colonel?" Keller's voice at the doorway pulled him from his thoughts.

John stood slowly and trailed his eyes over Kirstin's sleeping form. He turned and walked out of the isolation room. "Is it just me, or is her color better?" he mumbled trying to fill in the dead air in the room.

"Her stats are the best they've been in the past three days," Jen said reassuringly. "Her last tox screen was clear."

John nodded and sighed. "Have you identified them yet?"

"Most of them" Keller said inclining her head for him to follow her to the office.

John scanned the infirmary as he walked toward her office. Four of the ten beds in the general room were occupied. Everyone was sleeping, including Lorne and Jeeter who took up two of the beds. As he neared the door, he noticed Lieutenant Bowyer and Dr. Narula standing near Keller's desk. Both had been working Mackenzie's case diligently for the past three days, so it made sense they took part in any debriefing. _The moment of truth, _John thought as he walked through the doorway and greeting the two men with a nod.

Dr. Keller brought Kirstin's medical information, the latest blood workup, scans and other data up on the plasma monitor. "Like I said, we've identified most of the drugs or compounds in her system. She had the same narcotic and hallucinatory compounds that Major Jeeter had in his system. There were also components of the retro virus."

"Minus the retro," Dr. Narula added.

"So Michael _was_ trying to turn her into a Wraith," Sheppard half asked half stated. Lorne had reported as much in his statement but John didn't exactly want to believe it was true.

"It seems to be the case," Keller confirmed.

"We turned Michael into a human in less than twenty four hours, and krice …not that I would wish it on anyone, but why wouldn't it work to turn Kirstin into a Wraith in the same amount of time?"

"We have a theory about that," Bowyer interjected hesitantly. "Stereoisomer."

"Stereoisomer?" John repeated. "Atoms that are the same but different?" he questioned remember his college chemistry class.

"Right," Narula confirmed. "We are all human on this base, but Ronon, Eldon and Teyla are from a different galaxy."

"And Kirstin, Kavan, Schmitt and I are from a different universe," Bowyer continued. "Physically we're all the same. On a molecular level we're all slightly different. Our tolerance to chemicals, food, even water is different depending on the environment."

John tilted his head as he tried to comprehend what Bowyer and Narula were saying. "You think that because the chemicals he was using were alien, Kirstin was immune to it?"

"Yes," Keller replied looking back at John.

"Kirstin told us in the jumper that one of them tried to feed on her and that he stopped suddenly," Sheppard thought aloud. "If the serum had no effect, then how likely is it that her blood or any of the Hero's crews blood isn't appetizing to the Wraith?"

"Very likely," Bowyer answered. "Although I wouldn't want to be the one to test that hypothesis."

"I still don't understand why he would try to turn her into a Wraith at all," Sheppard said pacing around the small office.

"Procreation," Dr. Narula said matter-o-factly. "There were very high concentrations of a crude type of fertility drug in her system." The doctor pointed at a graph on the monitor.

John blinked as the information sank in. "Kirstin is on birth control," he said trying to process it all.

"Yes," Lieutenant Bowyer replied. "I'm guessing he detected the inhibitor and was trying to reverse it."

"Is that even possible?" John asked with an incredulous expression on his face. He caught the questioning glances between the three doctors. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked getting annoyed.

"Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be likely that you could reverse the effects of the inhibitor," Dr. Narula replied.

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" Sheppard asked.

"The inhibitor Kirstin uses SOP for all Starfleet personnel assigned on space duty. It's an injection that has an effectiveness window of sixteen weeks and it's administered three times a year," Bowyer explained. He sighed and glanced at Narula and Keller. "Kirstin's sixteen weeks was up a week ago."

"So the effectiveness was non existent," Sheppard concluded. He ran his hand through his hair as he contemplated the consequences. "No wonder why she wanted to wait," he mumbled under his breath.

"That was one of the reasons," Bowyer said slowly, making eye contact with Sheppard. "Normally the medication is stocked in the ship's medical bay because it's so commonly used. Unfortunately, the female version of the inhibitor wasn't stocked on Hero. I suspect it had to do with our mission profile since we were only expected to be out ten weeks. It's also SOP for personnel to carry one dose with them at all times, however, Kirstin doesn't have it."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't have an answer to, Colonel. She didn't check it in with me before we departed. Major Mackenzie was just coming off family leave when we got our orders, so it's possible that she didn't have time to get a new dose, or she didn't think that she would need it," Bowyer replied shrugging. "I checked with the other females assigned to our mission …Lieutenant Alavarez used her dosage just after we left. The vial for Ensign Yi's dose was damaged and the medication was tainted. All of the men still have their doses, but the male version of the inhibitor is different than the female."

"We've been trying to synthesize a replacement for the past couple of weeks but weren't having much luck," Dr. Narula added.

"So is she …?" Sheppard started to ask, suddenly nervous about the implicatons.

"Pregnant? No, at least not yet," Keller assured him. "It's one of the tests we've been running daily. Now that her tox screen is clear, I can give her some medication that will make it less likely for a fertilized egg to implant on the uterus wall, however it's not a hundred percent effective. We're just going to have to keep monitoring her for the next week or so."

"You can't tell with the tricorder?" Sheppard directed his question at Bowyer.

"Well, maybe if we weren't dealing with alien poisons," Bowyer replied. "Even in my century the science of detecting pregnancy hasn't been perfected. You could have a weeks worth of negative results and then suddenly a positive will show up."

"Great," Sheppard said. He rested his hands on his hips and paced around the room silently.

"There is another consideration," Narula added queitly. "Since Kirstin was at the end of her window and the two of you were sexually active …."

John snapped around and stared at the young doctor. He knew exactly where he was going with this. "You think that I'm …. We didn't have …," Sheppard stammered waving his hand around in the air to fill in the blanks.

"Look, we're all adults here," Bowyer interjected sensing Sheppard's discomfort. "I think it's pretty safe to say that no matter how careful a couple tries to be, there is always a chance of semen being introduced into the vaginal environment."

John nodded in agreement. The morning Kirstin had left on the mission they were anything but careful. John had pulled out of her rear just seconds before he came and was 'in the neighborhood' when he exploded. As much as he didn't want to admit it or even deal with it, there was a very good chance that any mutating cell inside her body was partially his fault. Kirstin didn't need to know that however. The sooner the doctors could administer the medication to kill off anything that was growing inside of her the better. _God only knows what the hell Michael tried to do to it and how all the toxins would affect it, _John thought as he shifted the weight on his leg. He crossed his arms at his chest. "How soon can you give her the dose?" John asked trying to move it along.

"I can do it right now," Keller replied. "If you are sure that is what you want to do."

"Yes I do. I don't want her to have to wonder or worried about it," he said flatly. He watched Keller nod in acknowledgement and leave the office. John paced back over to the monitor. "What about her skull fracture and facial injuries?"

"The skull fracture is minor and is just going to leave her with some blurred vision and a major headache. The cheek fracture will heal on its own. We wired the jaw shut yesterday after putting in the temporary molars," Narula replied changing the display on the monitor. "There wasn't any nerve damage to the eye or facial area, so she'll heal okay."

"And her scar?"

"The laceration was through and through and sliced up her tongue and gums a bit. The suture seared it together okay. A little crooked, but some of that can be cleaned up with plastic surgery," Bowyer said. "I'm sure she was pretty shaky when she did it."

"You think Kirstin did that to herself?" Sheppard guffawed.

"That's what's called a field suture," Bowyer laughed. "We learned to do that as part of our MACO training," Bowyer commented. "I'll demonstrate." He walked out of the room to retrieve a phase pistol from Sergeant Kavan who was on security detail outside of Mackenzie's room. As he came back in, he pulled an orange from his pocket and broke through the skin with his thumb and then set it on the desk. "Set the phase pistol on stun and take the power cell out," Bowyer remarked going through the motions. "Bleed off some of the residual charge," he said pointing the weapon at the trash can and tapering the laser stream. "And the position yourself with the cut and fire away."

Sheppard winced as the Lieutenant seared the skin of the orange back together. "Wouldn't that hurt like hell?" he gasped as the skin melted back together.

"Normally you would rub a numbing agent over the wound first," Bowyer said putting the weapon back together. "But yeah it would hurt like hell, although I hardly think that would adequately describe it." Bowyer stepped to the door and handed Kavan back the weapon.

"Geezus," John muttered shaking his head. _If she could do that to herself to save herself from bleeding to death … she could survive one hell of a fight. _

* * *

The door had barely closed behind them before Ronon had pinned T'Pol against the wall. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire as he wrapped himself around her frame and trailed nibbles down her neck. She was amazed that he was intuitive enough to trace the outline of her ears, teasing her erogenous zone. The gasp that escaped her lips was confirmation that he was affecting her in a likeable way.

T'Pol didn't resist him as he led her toward his narrow bed. He threw the furs that covered it down on the floor and guided her down on them. She watched him as he knelt in front of her and carefully removed her sweaty clothing one article at a time. When she was naked in front of him, he laid her down against the furs and sat back to appreciate her beauty. T'Pol locked eyes with him and saw the lust and desire deep within him. She knew Ronon was capable of feeding her hunger in just the way she needed.

Without speaking, T'Pol reached out and pulled him toward her. Their lips met in a fiery crash and their hands groped each other, finding pressure points like they were second nature to them. T'Pol arched her back as Ronon began to finger her folds drawing her into his web. Her fingers grazed the waistband of his pants and she opened her eyes to gaze hypnotically into his.

"Why haven't you undressed?" she whispered into his ear as she trailed her tongue over his lobe.

"No reason," he said sitting back from her. He pushed to a standing position and slowly removed his pants, revealing his arousal in all its glory.

T'Pol licked her lips as he released it from his pants. Ronon was thick and big, far bigger than Rodney or even Admiral Archer. She felt the ache inside pulling at her, wanting to feel him inside her without any preamble. She watched him carefully as he knelt alongside of her and laid out in the opposite direction. He motioned for T'Pol to roll on her side and she complied questioning the movement. When she was facing his arousal, she understood his intent.

She grasp his energy her hand and began to stroke it firmly while he buried his head between her legs. It took all T'Pol's will to focus on what she was doing as Ronon licked and fingered her center bringing her to a climax much quicker than she had expected. She had his arousal in her mouth and encasing it in hot wetness when she felt her body shudder as it released. T'Pol pulled back from his arousal and quickened her strokes as she ground her hips into his face.

She rolled back against the furs and moaned in pleasure as Ronon sat up and smiled. His fingers were still working her folds, unknowingly manipulating the neuro node deep within her. T'Pol pushed herself up from the floor and knelt in front of him, never breaking contact with his hand. The pressure was inviting, but as her hunger increased she needed to feel a human connection within her. She straddled his waist and pushed his hands back over his head, nipping at his neck

"T'Pol," Ronon growled as her breast danced across his lips. He caught a hard nipple in his teeth and sucked in it, swirling his tongue around it.

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, crying out as he teased her.

He let go of her breast and wriggled his hands free of her grasp. "I can't promise I'll be gentle," he said running one hand down her back and wrapping the other around his arousal.

"I don't want you too," she gasped.

"I know," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed her core down on his energy. He watched her eyes roll up in her head as he guided himself in. "I just wanted to get it out in the open."

* * *

Rodney McKay was totally engrossed in his laptop and barely heard the footfall behind him. As the voice cut the tension in the air, Rodney nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Geezus Sheppard!" McKay cried out as his whole body jerked. "Try sneaking up on a person!"

"Sorry," John replied not caring that he startled his friend. "Hey, wanna play some golf? I need a distraction."

Rodney eyed the Colonel hesitantly. "Don't you usually work out with the cave man now?"

"Yeah, but he's not in the gym or answering the radio," John said straddling a stool near Rodney's computer.

"Oh, well, yeah, I can play one game. I was supposed to go to lunch with T'Pol but I think she's standing me up." He tapped some keys in the laptop and brought the game up on the screen.

"You two seem to be chummy these days," Sheppard commented as he picked his player on the game. He picked up his canteen and took a swig of water.

"You could say that," Rodney said gloating widely. "We're sleeping together."

John choked and spewed water all over the desk. "You're what?" he croaked out.

"Okay, maybe sleeping together isn't the right word," Rodney said nonchalantly.

"What would be the right word?" John coughed. He ran the sleeve of his shirt over the desk top to wipe up the spit.

"Having sex," he replied flatly.

"You're having sex with T'Pol?" Sheppard asked with a stunned expression on his face.

"Yeah."

"T'Pol … beautiful alien and very pregnant T'Pol?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

"You don't...ah... seem to be her type," Sheppard said still having difficulty believing the story McKay was weaving.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'll have you know intellectually we are equals," McKay replied defensively.

"Really?"

"Yes and why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, it's just that a couple of weeks ago you said T'Pol was smarter than you," Sheppard reminded him.

"What does that have to do with my personal relationship with her?" Rodney retorted.

"Nothing … exactly," Sheppard answered. "But while we're on the topic, exactly how personal is the relationship?" Sheppard asked questioning him from a different angle to get the real story.

"Sex, we're having sex! How much more personal can it get? She and I are doing the woo-woo!! Although I will say it's quite different from anything I've ever experienced before. She has this hard ridge at the opening of her…."

"Stop! I don't need the graphic details of your _woo-woo," _John interrupted. "What are you going to do when Commander Doyle gets back?"

"Do about what?"

"He'll be on base in two days."

"So?"

"Well, I was just thinking that your new found relationship might come to an abrupt halt," Sheppard explained looked at Rodney.

"Why would it?" Rodney questioned. "They're not in a relationship."

"Rodney, they're bonded," Sheppard argued.

"No they're not. T'Pol told me they were just friends. Whatever was going on between them was over years ago."

"She told you that?"

"Yes," Rodney said plainly. He crossed his arms at his chest in an _I told you so _manner.

"And you believed her?"

"Yes!" Rodney replied indignantly. "Why would she lie?"

"Cause it's a guy line!"

"A guideline?" Rodney asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"A … GUY LINE!" Sheppard replied loudly. "You know … a line a guy tells a woman to get them into bed! Haven't you ever told a woman a white lie to get her to woo-woo?"

"No," Rodney replied flatly. He had a horrified expression on his face at the thought of it. "I don't believe it."

"You know for all the pillow talk the two of you have, you don't know that much about her," John commented. "T'Pol''s species mates for life, when they pick a partner and mate, they create a telepathic bond with each other that cannot be broken."

"With an emphasis on life," Rodney replied flatly. "T'Pol thought Doyle, er Tucker, whatever he's going by these days, was dead."

"No she didn't!" Sheppard retorted. "She knew he faked his death."

"How do you know?" Rodney argued back.

"Because she told me. She never truly believed he was dead," Sheppard explained in his low, even toned voice.

"Yet she is carrying another man's child," Rodney cited.

"The only reason she mated with someone other than Doyle was because it was her time. Her species only comes into their reproductive cycle once every seven years. She could have died if she hadn't mated with someone," Sheppard told Rodney.

"She told you that?" Rodney asked completely surprised.

"That and then some," Sheppard replied shrugging his shoulders.

"Like what?"

"Like she and Doyle had a child together six years ago."

"They did?" Rodney asked with a stunned expression on his face.

"Yes…a girl, she died from a birth defect when she was just a few months old," Sheppard said leaning against the desk.

"They have birth defects in the future?" Rodney mumbled as the information sank in. "What else did she tell you?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Colonel Sheppard please report to the Infirmary immediately!" Chuck's acidic voice yelled over the base paging system.

"Crap!" Sheppard scowled.

* * *

_Wandering in the surf, the sun beating on her neck, Kirstin felt carefree and playful. She turned to splash water on her fiancé and was surprised to discover him standing behind her, waiting to pounce. _

"_Ryan!" she half screamed half giggled as he knocked her back on the wet sand. She felt his arms snake around her neck and his lips brush against her lips. Before she could react, he pulled her into a deep passionate kiss that lasted for several minutes. When their lungs demanded they come up for air, Ryan sat back and scanned the beach front area. _

"_Let's get married there," he said pointing to a quaint gazebo a few feet away. _

_Kirstin pushed up on her elbows and looked over at the small building. "There? Are you sure?" she asked looking back at him. The sun was bright in her eyes and she squinted to avoid being blinded. "Ryan?" she called when he didn't answer and she couldn't see him anymore. "Ryan?" she repeated becoming panicked. _

_He's in the gazebo, she calmed herself and picked herself off the sand. Kirstin jogged over to where her fiancé stood with his back to her. "Why didn't you answer me?" she asked when she was in ear shot. _

"_I did answer, you chose not to listen," the male voice replied. _

_Kirstin froze in her tracks. The clothes were the same, but the voice was different. She watched the male slowly turn to face her. "Michael! You sonavabitch!" she screamed backing up from him. "What the hell are you doing in my dream?"_

"_This isn't a dream my love, this is our memory," he said with an eerie chuckle. _

Kirstin's eyes snapped open and she stared up at the ceiling of the isolation room. The monitor above her head was beeping wildly in time to her heart rate and alarms were going off to alert the medical staff that she was awake, agitated, sick or just freaking out again. _It's happening again, _she thought as she tried to control her breathing. _I'm on Atlantis, _she reminded herself firmly as her mind reeled in panic. _Michael's not here. Where's John, where's John? My hands are free, my hands are free!_

She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. _I will not freak out. I will not freak out. If I freak out they are just going to sedate me again and I'll have to suffer through this cycle all over again. I'm safe. I'm safe. Michael is not here. I'm safe and John, Jeeter and Lorne are going to kick his ass then next time they see him. _Kirstin's mind was on fire as she tried to curtail her thoughts and focus on just one thing. She opened her eyes to find her focal point in the room just as a male doctor on base breezed into her room.

Kirstin only caught a partial glance at medium height, blonde haired doctor, but the resemblance to her former abductor was enough to shoot Mackenzie over the edge. She eyed him warily as he approached her bed and stared carefully at her monitors. _My hands are free, _Kirstin reminded herself as she prepared to launch herself at him.

"Looking good, Kirstin" the doctor mumbled putting his hand into the pocket of his lab coat.

Hearing her name roll off his tongue turned Mackenzie's blood cold. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ear as she watched him remove a large syringe from his pocket and pulled the safety cap from the needle. Mac didn't give him time to say anything. She flew off the bed and shoved him back against the wall in a howling flurry of screams, kicks and fingernails.

"You think you can shove your poison into me again! You have another thing coming!" she growled through gritted teeth as she bent his hand back and grabbed the syringe out of it. The man yelped loudly but hardly resisted as she wrenched his arm to the side and buried the needle deep within his flesh. "I'm through with needles! I'm through with being sedated for my own good! " She watched the man slide helplessly to the floor and backed up. "I'm not crazy!"

Kirstin stepped back and slipped in a puddle of wetness. She looked down and noticed a trail of urine dribbled across the floor. The culprit for the leak was a severed connector from the urine collection bag and the catheter tubing still attached to her body. She laughed sadistically and ripped the IV tubing from her arms, throwing the tubing across the room. As the blood dripped from the open wounds in her arms, Kirstin bent over to pull the one final tube from her body.

"Major Mackenzie!"

She recognized the voice of Lieutenant Bowyer immediately. Mackenzie stopped what she was doing to focus on his voice. _Is that really Chip? Or is it Michael faking to be Chip? _she wondered as she straightened to look at him.

"Do you know who I am?" he called out to her loudly.

"Lieutenant," she replied in a small voice as she looked in his direction warily. Bowyer was standing just inside the door of the isolation room. A med tech stood in the corridor just outside the room. She could hear footstep in the corridor, heavy like the person was running and then the murmur for voices outside the door. She scanned the perimeter of the room and noticed the male doctor still lying on the floor with a look of terror on his face.

"Good. Now, listen to me carefully. _**Do not **__**pull that tubing out**_!" Bowyer instructed her slowly and loudly.

"Why?" Kirstin questioned him not that she really needed to ask. She had a vague memory of pulling the tube out a couple of days ago and then suffering through the pain afterwards. It wasn't just the searing burn of the delicate tissues of her vaginal area being ripped open … but the pain of looking up into Sheppard's eyes as he and three other people held her down against the bed. While she didn't really want to go through it again, there was always a chance that Bowyer wasn't really Bowyer and Michael was just jacking with her thoughts.

"Well for starters it would hurt like hell," Bowyer replied crossing his arms at his chest.

"Hurt like hell?" Kirstin retorted loudly. Her body shuddered as pain sliced through her face from where her jaw was wired shut. "Is that supposed to scare me? You have no idea what it means to hurt like hell Lieutenant!" She backed away from him as more urine leaked onto the floor. "I've lived through hell." She said kneeling on the floor.

"Okay, that's fair," Bowyer agreed trying to draw her attention again. "But if you pull that tubing out Mac, I'm going to have to take you to surgery to fix it which means I'll have to sedate you again!"

"**NO**!" Kirstin screamed. "No more needles!"

"Okay Major Then get your hands where I can see them. **NOW!**" Bowyer barked walking closer to Kirstin.

Sheppard paced nervously outside of Kirstin's room as Dr. Keller and Lieutenant Bowyer repaired the damage the Mackenzie had caused in this latest outburst. Dr. Narula tended to the wounded doctor on a gurney down the way from the door. John felt helpless standing there. It seemed like Kirstin was getting worse instead of better. He ran his hand through his hair and turned on his heel just as Dr. Heightmeyer entered the infirmary and Keller and Bowyer exited the room.

"What happened?" John asked barely giving them time to decompress as they came out.

"Dr. Kohlman went in to give her another dose of the date-rape cocktail and she freaked out," Bowyer said tossing his latex gloves in the trash can. "She wrestled the needle away from him before I could get in there and stabbed him with it."

"Wonderful," John mumbled. "Is he going to be okay? Will that affect him adversely?"

"There shouldn't be any lasting affects," Keller confirmed. "We cleaned her up and took out the catheter. She's insistent that she doesn't want any medication anymore."

"Is that a good idea?" John asked.

"Not exactly how I'd like to play it, but since her tox screens are clear, I'd say it's safe," Keller remarked.

John nodded and put his hands on his hips. "What are the chances that it's that room that's freaking her out?"

"What do you mean?"

"Major Lorne said that Michael was holding them in a hospital on Olesia. If the room was even remotely similar or she feels threatened by anyone that comes into the room..," Heightmeyer suggested reading into John's meaning.

"It could go a long way to explaining her continued outbursts," Keller agreed.

"We could move her to temporary quarters down the hall until she's stable enough for a psych evaluation," Heightmeyer suggested.

"She's not going to go for that," Bowyer interjected slowly. "She's not used to continued confinement, in our century it's unheard of on a starship. The CMO would have held her for twenty four hours and booted her back to her quarters."

"Jen are you okay with releasing Kirstin to her quarters?" John asked intent on getting Kirstin back to her own room.

"That's fine."

"Good, then I'm taking her home," Sheppard replied stepping around the three medical professionals and walking into the isolation room.

He found Kirstin lying on her left side away from the door when he entered the room. Sheppard walked around the side of the bed and pulled up at stool that was sitting in the corner. "Hey you," he said as he settled down in front of her.

"Are you here to take me to the brig?" she asked not moving from the bed. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and pooled on the pillow under her head.

"No," he answered. "Unless you have something kinky in mind for the two of us down there?" he smiled at her, trying to put her at ease.

"Like you would want to be with me like that again," she muttered under her breath.

"Yes I do," he said firmly. He picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "Nothing is changed between us, Joes."

"Are you sure?" she asked making eye contact with him. "I'm tainted now."

"I don't think that," John said holding her gaze.

"Things might be different," she shrugged as she tried to explain it. "Because of what they did."

"Yeah, I already got the lecture from Heightmeyer," John told her leaning closer to the bed.

Kirstin gave him a quizzical look. "You and Heightmeyer talked about me?"

"Not really about you specifically … it was more about our…sex life," John said as nonchalantly as he could and shrugged his shoulders. He watched Kirstin's eyes go wide. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her about your necrophilia fetish."

"Oh thanks," she muttered arching her eyebrows. She was quiet for a minute as her eyes searched his for comfort. "I think he might have broke me," she whispered quietly.

"No he didn't," Sheppard told her. "We know what he was trying to do and it didn't work."

"You don't know that," Kirstin retorted.

"I do know that … the medical tests prove it and your will for survival proves it. You fought him for two days and escaped and then fought him for three days in this bed," he argued looking at her. He could tell she wasn't going for it, so he tried a different angle. "Look, Joes … let's just say that he did break you," he said waving his hands around to make the point. "What would he have to gain? The gate address to Atlantis?"

"I don't know the gate address to Atlantis. I mean I know a couple of symbols, but not the right order. I couldn't dial it when I needed to in the dart," she countered.

"Exactly my point," Sheppard replied flatly. "Like I said, we already know what he was trying to do and it didn't work."

"Turn me into one of his kind," Kirstin confirmed.

"Yeah, but you're definitely still human … and I've seen all of you to know," John told her with a sly grin trying to keep the conversation light.

"Things happened and my memories are clou…" Kirstin blurted out getting upset again.

"Hey, shhh," he said kissing her hand. "Both Jeeter and Lorne said you were restrained when most of that happened. You didn't have any control over it..."

"But my body responded to him," Kirstin wimpered interrupting him.

"No," John squeezed her hand to reassure her. "That's a defensive mechanism. It's the way your body protects itself from attack."

Kirstin shook her head and bit her lip as tears rolled freely from her eyes. "You don't know that, I could almost believe that he was sincere, that he really cared about me." Kirstin paused and locked her gaze on Sheppard. "Almost," she whispered.

John was silent as he watched her. _Michael worked her over good, _he thought as he heard the truth in her words. "That's all part of the mind game he was playing on you. It's not the first time he's done it," John said changing his tactic. He needed Kirstin to remember her SERE training and not get stuck in the loop Michael had forced on her.

"What? What do you mean it's not the first time?"

"He did the same thing to Teyla a year ago. He exploited her telepathic abilities to get her to help him escape from us."

"It's not the same, I'm not telepathic," Kirstin argued.

"At all?" he prodded tilting his head. "Not even with T'Pol?"

"No," she answered.

"What about that clear space you two share?" he asked.

"White space …." Kirstin twisted her lips to the side slightly. "Okay maybe a little," she conceded.

"Hmm hmmm," he chuckled. "See you think I don't know you," he smiled. He brushed his lips over her knuckles. "I convinced Keller to spring you today … unless you want to stay here," he commented.

"This room gives me the creeps," she said. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the medical equipment. "Where to?" she asked pushing herself up on the mattress.

"Well, Heightmeyer wanted to put you in temporary quarters down the hall, but Bowyer and I said you weren't going to go for that," John told her with a smirk. "So as long as you promise not to jump out the window, you can go back to your quarters."

"Don't worry I'm scared of heights remember?" Kirstin reminded him as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

* * *

Her eyelids fluttered open and she trailed her eyes around the room. The sun was setting, casting shadows off the furniture. Mentally calculating the time, she figured they had been out of touch with their teams for over six hours. They were six of the most gratifying, satisfying hours of her life. She appreciated his ability to sense her need and respond to it unconditionally quelling the dull ache inside her soul. He was a formidable opponent. His stamina and will to pleasure her never changed. He far outshined any of her previous partners … including the father of her child and the man she had selected as her bond mate.

T'Pol could hear his quiet breathing in her ear, yet was certain he was still awake, lying in wait for her next move. She could feel his hand on her stomach, the warmth from his body against her back.

"The baby's kicking," Ronon whispered in her ear.

'He's quite active these days," she replied placing her hand on her stomach under his to comfort her child

"He must get that from his mother," he commented.

"Hardly, Vulcan children are not active in the womb," T'Pol commented rolling to face him.

"How do you know?" he asked her trailing his hand down the side of her face. "Have you carried a child before?"

T'Pol shuddered at the contact and found her body reacting to him again. How it could react mystified her. Five minutes ago she was sure that she had her fill of sexual need for the day. It wasn't just her own body that was reacting, she could feel the pulse of Ronon's erection against her leg. "No," she muttered trying to distract herself from his touch.

"Then you can't make assumptions," Ronon said rolling over into the cradle of her legs. He pushed his erection against her bud and started to rub it roughly watching her eyes dilate.

"Just as you can't assume that I want this again," she replied flatly.

"Are you telling me to stop?" Ronon asked her with a sly grin on his face.

T'Pol bit her lip and pushed up to lean on her elbows. "And if I was?"

"I'd stop," Ronon replied pulling back from her body.

"That won't be necessary," she answered leaning forward to meet his lips.

Ronon chuckled as he licked her lips and drew her into another kiss. T'Pol's appetite for sex was never ending and it surprised him that he could keep up with her. Sheppard had told him that her species bonded for three days when they were in their reproductive cycle. _I'd be dead if I had to keep this up for three days, _he thought as she lowered down on the furs. _No wonder why they only go through it every seven years …. Three days of wild-crazy sex … then however many months of pregnancy sex? Geezus! _He leaned forward to remain in contact with her lips and pressed his hand against her breast, squeezing it firmly as he continued to probe her mouth. It was a turn on for him that she liked it rough. _Most women don't, _he reminded himself as he nibbled on her bottom lip and heard her whimper beneath his grasp.

For the moment T'Pol had arrived on Atlantis it was clear that she was no ordinary woman and today only fortified his belief. He knew woman had urges at the most odd moments so it didn't surprise him that she needed this type of attention today. Despite how excited he was or how her scent drew him in or how he desired to be part of her reckless sexual need, he could feel himself waning. _Let me just get this over with so I can get some food, _Ronon thought as he pushed inside her.

Ronon felt T'Pol arch to be closer to him as she had done so many times this afternoon. The pressure of her stomach against him gave him an odd sort of pleasure. Ronon released her breast and rested his weight equally above her as he pressed down to lick tip of her ear and trail kisses down the side of her neck. His glutes contracted and relaxed with the rhythm of his strokes into her core. He felt her hands caressing his chest, neck and face and he turned his head to bite her arms. He gritted his teeth as he felt himself coming to his apex, which was too quick for his liking… knowing that it would take much longer for T'Pol to come to her own. Suddenly Ronon found himself drawn into something strange. He felt T'Pol's fingertips on his cheek and her muscles clamping around his arousal like a vise grip. A wave of emotion, life and stories flushed over him like a flood and he was swept away in a flurry of memories.

* * *

It had been nearly eight hours since Kirstin had been released from the infirmary. It was the longest eight hours of her life and they were anything but uneventful. After receiving her walking papers, Kirstin and Sheppard had lunch in the mess hall. She wasn't very hungry, but choked down some soup just to appease John who was watching her every move. She went right for the shower the minute she walked in the door of her room. After she scrubbed her skin nearly raw, she sunk against the wall of the shower stall and was lulled into a daydream by the hypnotic rhythm of the water splashing against the floor. The images in her mind were distorted and haunting shuffling through pleasant memories of times with her friends before the Xindi attack, on the Republic to Hero and even Atlantis. In all of them, Kirstin felt like she was being watched ….a looming figure in the background. He was everywhere and appeared as everyone … a Reptilian soldier, a Romulan, the principal at her elementary school, her drill sergeant at boot camp and the street junkie that raped her. She couldn't escape him.

The security detail found her in the shower fifteen minutes later, cowered in the corner and screaming bloody murder while cold water poured over her skin. Her shipmate from Hero, Lieutenant Lucy Alavarez talked Kirstin into leaving the bathroom on her own and helped her to dress before Heightmeyer arrived to psycho-analyze her. Then somehow Alavarez, Sheppard and Heightmeyer managed to convince Kirstin to take a Valium to help calm her nerves. After that Kirstin slept for a couple of hours until she bolted out of bed and ran into the bathroom to fighting the urge to hurl in the toilet. She failed and because her jaws were wired shut, practically choked on her own vomit. Then the vicious cycle of security and medics invading her room started all over again.

Despite her own doubts, Kirstin was determined to see it through. Her plan was live out the next few days in this room, bury all the hurt and anguish that she was feeling and then move on. It was the way her father had taught her to deal with grief from the time she was a little girl. Keep it in one place and leave it there. She left her grief over her mother's and sister's death at the cemetery, the anguish over her rape and assault at the hospital, the heartache from losing her dad, brother and fiancé in Florida. She was going to make it through this and move to another place in the city Most of the Hero crew had moved closer to the tower and T'Pol was moving to larger quarters in the west pier in a couple of days. While this room had a great view … it was just one great view in a city of great views.

She was lying on the couch in front of the window when John came to check on her later. She was battling a headache and had covered her eyes with her arm. Her knees were bent and her laptop rested on her legs. Her grandmother's quilt covered her feet. Mackenzie was aware of his entrance into her room, but she didn't move until he stood next to her and lifted her laptop off her legs.

"Hi," he said setting the laptop on the night stand and putting the back of his hand against her forehead to feel for a fever. "Feeling better?"

"No," she mumbled looking up at him. "I feel like crap. My head is pounding, my ears are ringing and my stomach is upset." She watched him walk around the couch and settle on the cushion next to her.

"I brought you some a protein shake, water, and medication," he said holding a hypospray in his hand.

"More Valium?" Kirstin asked eyeing the hypo suspiciously.

"Maybe. Bowyer said it was his own special recipe to take the edge off combined with some nausea medication," he said holding it up to inject it in her neck. She turned her head to allow him to press the device against her neck and when he was finished he set it on the night stand. "There's enough in there for another dose later." He cocked his head toward her laptop. "Looking for new quarters?"

Kirstin nodded and bit her lip. "Everyone else has moved, I don't want to be out here all alone anymore."

"I thought you loved this view," John said glancing over his shoulder out the window. "That it reminded you of your condo in San Francisco."

"The last couple of days were a grim reminder of how I needed to embrace the new and leave other things behind," she answered. She signed _holding on to you, if you want me _to him as a tear ran down her face.

"I thought I made myself clear about that earlier?" he said lacing his fingers around hers.

"Even though I held a gun to your head?" she questioned. "I could have shot you."

"Stunned me," he reminded her. "Besides it wasn't the first time you held a gun on me nor is it the first time anyone on this base has done it. Your name was just added to the distinguished list of people that wanted to shoot me." He leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips and squeezed her hand. "The room down the hall from mine is available … it's big with a nice sunny southern view. Quiet corridor without a lot of traffic," he said quietly.

"You sound like a real estate agent," she smiled.

"You have real estate agents in the twenty second century?" John asked with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Yes and hotdog stands in the city," she smirked. "It's weird how similar our universes are …. With the exception of some minor technology," she added with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Anymore nightmares or daydreams?" he asked her quietly.

"I haven't allowed my thoughts to wander since I got sick," she muttered looking at the back of the couch.

"Any particular reason?" he asked tentatively.

She knew where he was going with this … trying to get her to talk about her feelings in a safer environment that Heightmeyer's office. If anyone was going to help her get through this it was going to be John. He understood her better than anyone and without saying anything he let her know that he knew she was trying to bury it … all of it. "I ah… I … just because," she stammered avoiding eye contact with him.

"Because?" he prodded squeezing her hand. "Joes it's okay to feel weird about it."

"I know," she muttered looking up at him. "Is my room bugged?" she asked changing the subject slightly.

"Ah yeah," Sheppard replied sheepishly. "It's temporary. Colonel Carter's request."

"Don't worry, I get it," she replied staring at the back of the couch again. "I'm okay to be released from the infirmary as long as security is outside my door and there is someone watching my every move like an ole time peep show."

"Pretty much," John agreed.

"Groovy," she said in defeat. "That puts a damper on our sex life doesn't it?"

"Well, yeah," John muttered looking in the direction of the 'bug'.

"Then I won't embarass you in front of your team," she replied quietly sitting up on the couch. "Will you lay with me for a while? Just til I fall asleep?"

"Sure," John replied.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Timeline: Occurs during the events of Doppelganger. Thanks to my beta's Deb and ladyofthelight101 for all their help. Any mistakes are mine.

Chapter 11

Ronon swiped his knife through the brush, trudging through the dense forest. He growled under his breath and grunted as he attempted to clear a path for the team. "Aghh! What are we doing?"

"Exploring the Pegasus Galaxy," Dr. McKay replied matter-o-factly behind him.

"You know what I meant," Ronon hissed through his teeth.

"There doesn't seem to be anything on this planet that would help us in our fight with the wraith or the replicators," Teyla piped up from the rear of the pack.

"Come on you guys kill me," McKay whined as he walked. "Planets are huge you know. There are tons of things to explore that aren't available to the naked eye!"

"The naked eye?" Ronon repeated. "I didn't know that eyes could be clothed."

"It's a metaphor!" McKay replied sarcastically.

"Whatever that means," Ronon scowled.

"You know, this seems like the perfect weekend getaway for you and Katie Brown," Sheppard remarked.

"Oh, ha ha so hilarious you are!" McKay replied rolling his eyes.

"We could have just surveyed the planet in the jumper and been back on base in time for lunch," Sheppard commented.

"When exactly is Major Mackenzie getting back from Earth? McKay asked looking up at the sky and shaking his head in frustration.

"Tomorrow," John answered with a suspicious tone. "What does that have to do with us traipsing around in the jungle?"

"Everything! You've been a complete grouch the past few days," McKay said turning around to look at the Colonel.

"You think he's grouchy? Speak for yourself." Ronon remarked looking back at the team.

"Don't even get me started," McKay mumbled walking past him and forging his own way through the forest.

"What's his problem?" Teyla asked watching McKay stomp away.

"He found out I'm sleeping with T'Pol," Ronon replied with a sly grin.

"You're sleeping with her?" Sheppard asked with a quizzical expression on his face. "I thought…"

"Yeah, not so much," Ronon replied. "She kicked him to the curb. He wasn't man enough for her."

"And you are?" Teyla asked eyeing Ronon carefully.

"Barely," Ronon said. "She's hungry and I don't exactly have what she needs."

"What does she need?" Sheppard questioned. "A hamburger?"

"T'Pol needs ...ah...a big juicy steak with a side of Commander Doyle," Ronon replied with a chuckle.

* * *

Charles Tucker the Third stepped out onto the porch of his newly purchased cabin and leaned against the banister taking in the view. The sky was a mixture of red, pinks and golden yellows as the sun set in the distance. The mountains loomed at the edge of the horizon and the wild flowers danced in the meadow as far as the eye could see. He surveyed his surroundings wordlessly for several minutes. It wasn't just nature he was admiring. T'Pol sat quietly in the porch swing to his right staring out at the same landscape as he.

He looked down at the steps leading away from the porch and recalled their conversation from the night before … the offer he had put out on the table. She hadn't shot him down or even argued about it. _I'll take it under advisement, _had been her response. Tomorrow afternoon he, T'Pol and Mackenzie would return to Atlantis through the intergalactic bridge and if he was ever going to have an opportunity to convince her to take the offer, it was now or never. She wasn't going to raise this child in another galaxy if he had anything to say about it. He didn't survive that rat-hole prison to have her walk out of his life again.

"Hey, um," he stammered clearing his throat. His mouth suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. "Given any thought to my proposal?" he finally coughed out.

"Yes," she replied flatly.

"Yes what? Yes you agree or yes you thought about it?" Trip asked looking over at her. She hadn't moved from her position on the swing.

"Yes I have considered it," she replied.

"And?"

"As I told you, I'm returning to Atlantis," she said with no emotion.

Trip closed his eyes and growled to himself. "That wasn't the … agh! T'Pol why the hell do you insist on being so damn difficult?" he threw his hand up in frustration. The fight was on.

"I don't know what you mean."

"What part don't you understand? It's not a good idea to raise a child in the Pegasus Galaxy! It's not exactly safe there!" He pushed off from the banister and paced across the porch. "Do you have any idea how many times they were attacked over the past four years? How many men and women were lost to the enemy? Its common knowledge in the space program that ninety percent of the time a Pegasus assignment is a one way trip!" He turned to face her and rested his hand on his hips impatiently. "Haven't you heard the saying … once you go Pegasus you never come back?"

"Where do you suggest I raise my child?" she asked finally turning to look at him.

"Here with me!"

"On Earth? In this universe Earth is in conflict with itself. How is that safer?" T'Pol asked with a quizzical expression in her eyes.

"It's safer because that is happening in another country, not here in Colorado," Tucker said.

"Just last evening the public media venue reported five people were killed in 'drive through shootings' in Colorado Springs," T'Pol countered. "Unless I'm mistaken, Colorado Springs is well within the borders of the United States."

"That's different," Trip replied not even addressing her bumble of the phrase.

"How is that different? The end is still the same. Lives are lost at the hands of the enemy."

"Okay, don't ask me to explain it," Trip said defensively. "Besides it's not like Vulcan never had its share of civil uprising."

"That's hardly a similar comparison," T'Pol said looking away from him.

"Oh really? One psycho Vulcan attempting genocide isn't the same as a dictator in this universe? If your mother was alive I think she would disagree." The minute the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Bringing up the death of her mother was a low blow and he knew it. He could feel her stare slicing him in half. He had lost this battle for the moment only because he let his emotions get the best of him. "Well, it beats getting eaten by a vampire," he mumbled as damage control before he slinked back into the house.

T'Pol pulled the sweater tightly around her shoulders when she felt a chill in the air. She might have just been imagining it since the fireflies continued their rhythmic frolic in front of the porch. _Trip is wrong about me, _T'Pol thought to herself. He had no clue about her reasons for joining the rescue mission. No clue that she truly wanted him in her life and her child's life, no clue that she wanted nothing more than to live happily ever after with him.

Ironically Ronon knew all it. She had linked with him accidentally and she let him in. He knew what she felt, how she felt and why, even to this day, she denied her feelings for Trip. _If you keep pushing him away, some day he is going to leave and not come back, _Ronon had told her just five days ago. _You love him and __want him to take the role of the father of your child. You just need to open your mind to it. It doesn't matter what other people think. All that matters is in your heart. _

T'Pol couldn't argue with any of his conclusions. She thought it was interesting that strangers in her life knew the truth, when she could barely face it herself. Ronon, Sheppard, Keller, Bowyer and even McKay had come to varying degrees of the same conclusion. T'Pol inhaled sharply as she felt the child's movement in her belly and reminded herself it was three weeks to her delivery date. Time was running out. _Three is definitely a significant number for me. _

T'Pol stood from the swing and walked into the house determined to make this right with Trip. She found him on the couch, hands clasped at his chest, his thumb drawing lazy circles on his palm. She recognized it as a relaxation technique. T'Pol could tell by his glassed over expression that his thoughts were not on her … it was the other woman…. the one he held in his dreams. She could feel the conflict in his heart and felt responsible for his aguish. She walked into living room and picked a blanket up from the chair. She walked to the couch and unfolded it to cover him.

"Hey," Trip's groggy voice startled her. He moved his legs to make room for her to sit down.

"Who is she?" T'Pol asked quietly. "This woman in your thoughts. Lennae."

"You know, you really need to stop sneaking into my head," he said giving her a stern look.

"I could say the same about you," she replied. "Did it ever occur to you that I would prefer not to get into an argument while I'm meditating?"

"I wouldn't call those arguments," Trip replied with a sly grin. "Just heated conversations that don't have a meaningful purpose."

"If you say so," she replied. "You are avoiding the question."

Trip took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "She was my partner at the work, _The Agency_. Partner, lover, confidant, arch nemesis. You name it."

"It's clear that you cared for her deeply," T'Pol remarked.

"Yeah, well, in the love department I'm batting two for two," Trip smirked. "Falling in love with her landed me in a Romulan prison. He was silent for a moment and ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "So as long as we're getting personal, who was the father of your child?"

T'Pol looked around the room nervously. This was her moment of truth. "A colleague," she barely squeaked out in a small voice. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Just a colleague? You weren't in a relationship?" He looked at her quizzically. "You know … like dating?"

"We had affection for each other," T'Pol replied dodging the bullet again.

"Affection?" he replied arching his eyebrow. "It wasn't Koss was it?"

T'Pol mentally shuddered at the sound of her former husband's name and shook her head. "It was someone that I cared about," she finally conceded.

"But not loved?" Trip asked cautiously.

"It wasn't that kind of relationship."

"It wasn't that type of relationship? You screwed the guy for three days!" Trip retorted. He immediately regretted it when he caught the icy glare in her eye. _That's brilliant Tucker…call her out like a jealous lover, _he thought. He implemented some more damage control by changing the subject. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to judge you on your choices." He exhaled slowly. "What did he do? Let me guess, Vulcan scientist?" Trip asked in a softer tone.

"He was a diplomat," T'Pol said still beating around the bush.

"Really?" Trip guffawed. "A diplomat hardly seems your type. I see you with a scientist that you could argue with."

T'Pol inhaled sharply recalling a few arguments she had with Archer over the years. "We had our share of battles."

"I'd guess Vulcan battles aren't as passionate as human ones," Trip commented. He pushed himself into a sitting position on the couch and picked up a glass of water that was sitting on the coffee table. He took a large sip as she fidgetted next to him.

It was now or never with this admission. It was no secret on Atlantis she was having a hybrid child. The likelihood that Trip would find out another way was very real. It was better that he heard it from her instead of the rumor mill. "He was human," T'Pol finally blurted out.

Tucker spewed water across the top of the coffee table and started to cough uncontrollably. "Wh…what?" Trip gasped completely stunned. "Did you just say…the father of your child was human?" He coughed several times to clear this throat.

"Yes," T'Pol replied avoiding eye contact with him "Ironically I've come to find Vulcan males a little too stuffy for my tastes these days."

"Are you serious?" Trip asked still stunned. "What would Soval have to say about that?"

"He is hardly one to say anything. He has lived on Earth for over forty years."

"Yeah, but it wasn't until that last year that I finally figured out that he liked us humans," Trip recalled. "He was like a closet human liker!"

His statement garnered arched brow expression. "It is why I cannot stay on earth," T'Pol admitted after a moment.

"What?"

"I cannot remain on Earth with a hybrid child," she repeated. "I do not want my child to be looked at like a… an anomaly."

"No one is going to look at him like an anomaly T'Pol," Trip said rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you how Earth accepted Elizabeth," T'Pol said darting her eyes from his glare. "She had my ears."

"T'Pol, that was a different Earth, a different time, people were suspicious and it wasn't like the Vulcan's did a lot to remedy the situation in the beginning." He pushed himself off the couch and paced around the living room of the cabin. "The people that mattered to us accepted Elizabeth unconditionally. She had your ears because she was genetically engineered to specifically have those characteristics. This is a different universe. There are aliens on Earth in this universe!" Tucker argued.

"Human aliens," she corrected him.

"No, not just Human. The Asgards are anything but human and don't even get me started about the Tok'ra!" he replied defensively. "It doesn't matter anyway. As far as I'm concerned or any of the Hero crew … we are all alien and we've been welcomed with open arms. Your child will be as well."

"You cannot say that for sure," T'Pol argued.

"Yes I can … besides, I seemed to remember that your great grandmother spent a lot of time living on Earth and no one was the wiser," Trip reminded her sternly. "Unless of course that whole little story you weaved about Carbon Creek was a tall tale?"

* * *

"Wait a minute … correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you tell me on Hero that you hated being a flight instructor and your heart belonged in space?" Kirstin Mackenzie said over the dinner table to Lieutenant Commander Travis Mayweather. In their universe Mayweather had been born in space, grew up in space and was destined to die there.

"Ah, yeah, I might've said that," Mayweather replied sheepishly. He stuck a forkful of steak into his mouth as an excuse not to comment any further.

Kirstin held the wine glass in her hand and stared at her friend. "Then how is it that you are settling for a position on here doing nearly the same thing?"

Mayweather finished chewing his food and swallowed hard. "I'm not settling! In case you didn't notice, because how would you, considering you are living on a remote base … there aren't a lot of opportunities to get…up there in this … um, area." Travis picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "The Air Force kinda has a lock on that."

"That's another thing," Mackenzie commented on leaning into the table. "How it is that the Starfleet officers are all Navy now?"

"Shows you how much you know about history," he said coolly. "Starfleet was part of the Navy."

"So Hero is designated as a Navy … something?" she asked making a circle motion with her wine glass. It was the third glass and she was starting to feel the effects.

"Ship. Hero is a ship and before you ask it's only natural that it's Navy because it's submersible," Mayweather said nodding his head. "And has a very _hot-rod _engine under the hood." Travis said with a cheesy grin on his face. "Being a flight instructor is only part of my responsibilities. Trip and I are assigned as Captain and First Officer of Hero," he added moving the green beans around on his plate.

"So what! Hero is grounded," Mackenzie implored.

"I didn't see you complaining about Hero being grounded when you were in the regeneration chamber getting your jaw fixed," he reminded her.

"I'm not complaining," she replied quickly. "I'm just making an observation that I don't think you're going to be satisfied just hanging out on the ground."

"Thanks for looking out for me … but Hero is only grounded until we figure out an alternative power source," Travis replied defensively. He pointed his fork at her. "Just because things are similar doesn't mean they are the same."

"Huh?" Mackenzie guffawed completely confused.

"Gas? Duh! We can't figure out how to create it, because dilithium isn't a mineral in this … place," Travis said with a low voice. He needed to be careful with the comments. They were at a public restaurant in the heart of Colorado Springs and most everything about Hero was classified. "We're working with our … _partners_, to convert the engine."

"You mean … the?" she asked cocking her head to the side. She knew full well he meant Earth's alien allies the Asgards.

"Yeah. Lieutenant Alonso and Ensign Yi are over there now testing some different stuff," he said sticking another forkful of steak in his mouth.

"And why aren't you there helping?"

"Because I'm living out one of my all time fantasies," Mayweather smiled slyly. "Landing a F-16 on an aircraft carrier."

"Flyboys," Kirstin said when she recognized the dreamy expression in his eyes. The reference reminded her of John and the fact she would get to see him in less than sixteen hours. "How'd that go?" she asked moving the pasta around on the plate suddenly distracted about how much she missed him.

"It was rough going … certainly not as easy as I thought or any of the simulators made it seem. At least I landed the plane on the deck and didn't end up in the water," he replied with a smirk. "And I didn't have to pull the ejection lever."

"Well, that's good, since you can't swim," she remarked with a chuckle. Immediately she winced as pain shot through her jaw.

"You okay?" Mayweather asked with a concerned tone.

"Ouch, yeah, I temporarily forgot that my jaw was broken," she remarked rubbing her hand across the newly repaired bone. It was still tender and would be for a couple of days.

Travis looked at her with a curious expression on his face. "You forgot? Yesterday it was wired shut!"

"What's your point?" she quipped. "Today its not."

"And you accuse me of being too dependant on technology?" Travis chuckled at her. "Gadget girl."

* * *

"Well, your scans are clear. Blood tests are normal," Keller said walking toward Sheppard and Teyla in the exam room. "As far as I can tell you are in perfect health."

"See? I told you so," Sheppard said to Teyla standing next to him on the bed. Relief washed over him. The last thing he needed was to be out of commission when Kirstin got home tomorrow. It would put a huge damper on his plans …the candlelit dinner and romantic sleepover. He needed to be on the top of his game for her homecoming, not sidelined because he touched some weird alien crystal.

"No more touching strange things," Keller warned him in the background.

"Well, that sounds like good advice," Sheppard agreed, even though it sounded somewhat kinky. _Okay, obviously I have sex on the brain, _he thought jumping off the exam bed. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted," he said trying to bow out gracefully from the infirmary.

"It's been a long day," Teyla remarked following him out into the hallway. When they were clear of the infirmary she reached out for his arm. "You seem a little anxious John," she commented.

He stopped and looked back at the Athosian. _She knows me too well, _he thought gathering his thoughts. "I guess I never realized how much she meant to me until all this happened," he said waving his hand in the air.

"Kirstin will be back tomorrow," Teyla said reassuringly. "In less than twelve hours."

John smirked. "Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be so freaked about it. At least I know she's coming back this time."

"Yes and this time, uninjured," Teyla reminded him.

* * *

Trip rolled over in bed and kicked the covers from his feet. He was restless. His mind was racing a million miles a second. "I can't lose her," he mumbled aloud through gritted teeth. "Not again." He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes and then crawled out of his bed and headed toward the kitchen. He descended the stairs in the darkness and navigated toward the fridge without running his bare feet into any furniture. Tucker opened the fridge and nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Geezus T'Pol!" he yelped when her silhouette was illuminated by the refrigerator light. "What are you doing up?" he asked shutting the door and turning on the light above the stove.

"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly.

"Why not?" Tucker asked suddenly worried about her. "You aren't having contractions are you?"

"No. The baby's foot is lodged firmly against my spine," T'Pol said flatly. "I cannot get comfortable." She sighed and waddled across the room toward the kitchen with her hand resting against her lower back.

"Maybe you need some good ole fashioned neuro-pressure," Trip remarked. "Come here." He watched her as she neared him. She was dressed in a silky nightgown that highlighted her curves. The sight of her body astounded him. He always thought she was hot, but tonight in the moonlight and soft glow of the kitchen light, she exuded a beauty that couldn't be defined. When she got closer to him he expertly put his hand against her lower spine and pressed against the node to release the tension. He smiled when he heard her exhale slowly.

"Ah, see? I was right. It's a good thing I haven't lost my touch." He slid his hand a little farther up her spine and pushed on the next spot. "You're a little tense."

"The baby has been very active the past few days," she said trying to explain away her stress.

"Hmmp. I could give you a rub down," Trip replied. She may be able to fool people on Atlantis with that line, but Trip knew her to well. He could see the stress in her brow, in the way she carried herself, in the tone of her voice. _Of course, it could just be the pregnancy. I remember being a little stressed out when I was pregnant, _he thought mentally wincing at the memory of his infamous pregnancy. "If you're interested," he added, leaving the choice up to her.

He watched her turn to face him and they locked eyes on each other. Trip searched her eyes for a sign and got it a little unexpectedly as a wave of emotion washed over him. She never answered him verbally, instead took his hand and led him down the hall to her room. Trip helped her lie down and within a few minutes he was touching her like he did years ago. Working her pressure points with a precision he never lost, bringing her relief and pleasure that she desperately needed. The touch ignited the love that he thought she had smothered years ago … the love that he was fighting to get back.

Tucker accidentally brushed his hand across the inside of her thigh and felt the heat her body was releasing. Trip was sure he could _feel_ that she wanted him to take it further and his body responded before it could register what just happened. T'Pol always had that effect on him. She could read his mind and influence his thoughts. Right now, it scared him. _If I'm reading this wrong she could really hurt me, _he thought as he moved his body against hers to let her know he was interested as well. That was all it took to get a response from her.

--

The warmth of his hands against her skin electrified her desire for intimate contact. It surprised her that he could evoke these feelings in her after all this time. Considering her recent involvement with Ronon, T'Pol found it difficult to believe that she could still have any sexual appetite at all. To the casual observer, she and Ronon were barely friends; behind closed doors he matched wits with her sexual fury. She bared her soul to Ronon during their intimate contact and he surely understood her like no other had … not even Archer or Trip. It was far from any relationship. _A fuck buddy, _as Ronon had tagged it. While the contact satisfied her basic hunger, she still needed an intimate link that only one person could provide her.

T'Pol relaxed into his touch. Trip was the person she craved. _Why is it so difficult for me to give in to him, _she asked herself as she waged her silent battle. _Perhaps I should blame my mother for this, _T'Pol considered in retrospect. She was in love with Trip so many years ago. She had taken him home to meet her family and then because she felt responsible for her mother's situation she pushed him away and married Koss. She rolled her eyes internally as she considered what her life would have been like had she remained married to the Vulcan. _Boring, _she surmised. The thought of bonding with the man made her shudder in repulsion. _Nearly as bad as considering mating with Dr. McKay more than once, _she reminded herself.

At that she felt Trip's hand brush against her inner thigh pulling her thoughts back to the man she was truly bonded too. She projected an acceptance of the act unconsciously and then felt his body adjust to tell her he was interested in pursuing more. _Perhaps this in the only way I can convey my desire, since I have yet to figure out how to verbalize it, _she thought feeling her body move on its own toward him. _I hope he understands. _

"Perhaps we should undress," T'Pol whispered breaking the silence in the room. She watched the surprised expression crawl across Trip's face.

"Are you sure?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes. I desire relief that you alone can give me," she said frankly.

Trip broke into a chuckle. "Well, it's so romantic when you put it like that," he said with a huge smile on his face. "I see some things never change."

--

Thank god he was only wearing pajama bottoms! Trip barely had time to slide his pants off before T'Pol shed her gown and pinned him to the bed. _For a pregnant woman she's pretty quick, _Tucker thought just as her lips crashed down on his. Her kisses were a frenzied mixture of an animalistic flurry and intimacy starved eagerness. He could feel her heat just above his arousal beckoning him and mentally Trip pulled back. _I really want to make love to this woman, but I don't think she's going to let me. She's too needy, _he concluded.

T'Pol's desire was all around him. He could smell her, taste her, and feel the urgency of her yearning. T'Pol wasn't the only one that could read a person's thoughts. Trip was acutely aware of her condition …both in her body and her heart. He was very cognizant that in order to be able to make love to her the way she wanted, he was going to have to throw the proverbial steak at the lion first.

He wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her closer to him. Once she was on her side on the mattress, he pushed up on his knees and coaxed her onto all fours in front of him. He teased her folds with his fingers as he stroked himself, working his arousal. It didn't take much self stimulation as her hot center and slick core contracted around his fingers. He heard her moan softly as he fingered the pressure point deep within her and manipulated the spot as she cried out in pleasure.

As her muscles began to relax, Trip pressed himself against her folds and massaged her bud with the head of his arousal. He could feel her rock back against him, encouraging him to enter her. He obliged her wishes and thrusted into her center. He moaned loudly as he plunged into the molten lava of her being. Memories of their previous love making sessions flushed through his head. Trip found the right rhythm immediately and went to work on weakening her need. He braced his hands on her hips, pulling her to meet his forceful thrust. He could feel her quivering below him and felt the fluids of her core become very hot.

Trip bit his lip and did everything he could to hold back his own orgasm. His intention wasn't to reach his apex, only to force T'Pol to get to hers. But despite his attempts, the pressure he was putting on her center, she was resilient. _Nearly like she just had sex yesterday, _he told himself knowing that it wasn't true. Yesterday the two of them had spent the entire day sightseeing in San Francisco and there was no sexual contact between them. _Unless she was pleasuring herself, of course her stomach is so big I highly doubt she could reach, _he thought just as she pulled away from him.

"Did I hurt you?" he whispered in shock as she rolled to her side.

"Sit back against the headboard," she practically ordered him.

"Okay," Trip replied slowly collapsing onto the mattress and rolling onto his back. He scooted back against the pillows so he was in a half sitting, half laying position against the headboard. She climbing on top of him and without any pause impaled herself on his arousal. Trip felt his eyes roll up in his head as the ring at her entrance clamped down on his energy.

"Ah… uh, oooo… Ta…Paul….baby," he moaned feeling himself being swallowed into her center. He didn't have much time to think about how aggressive she was being with him. His mind was concentrating on only one thing – what he missed about making love to her. He had dreamt about it for so many months in prison and now he was going to live it.

Trip felt her hand trace the outline of his jaw; starting at the tip of his chin and trailing slowly back toward his ear. Trip swallowed hard in anticipation of what was about to come. The other thing he missed about T'Pol …the thing that other woman, whatshername, couldn't give him, was the connection she shared with him that was Vulcan alone. He felt the pads of her fingertips making contact with his skin and closed his eyes as she swept him up in her world.

* * *

Major Kirstin Mackenzie stumbled into the small room, tripped over her feet and landed squarely on the metal cot against the wall. She rolled over onto her back as her body was riddled in uncontrollable laughter. "I'm drunk!" she proclaimed between giggles at the nondescript walls. It wasn't the first time tonight that no one was listening.

After indulging in way too much wine at dinner, Mayweather stuffed Mackenzie into a cab and sent her back to the front gate at Peterson. The only problem was that she didn't quite make it there. After she spewed some futuristic nonsense about flying cabs and then tried unsuccessfully to activate Hero's transporters with her cell phone the driver put her out of the car. Luckily, she was only a mile from the base and conveniently enough, it was right in front of a small strip mall and a couple of dive bars.

Mackenzie made a home for herself at the bar of one place, drowning her sorrows of her jacked up existence with a bottle of Jack Daniels. After about an hour, she made friendly with the local bar-slug in the woman's restroom and then the two of them began to make a public spectacle of themselves. Singing out of tune with the juke box, bumping into people on the dance floor, spilling drinks on other bar patrons were just a few of the events that landed them out on the curb. At that point, Mackenzie's functioning brain cells told her to go back to the base, but the bar-slug convinced her to make one more stop.

Mackenzie was at the next bar all of twenty minutes when some guy tried to make a move on her and she clocked him with her fist. While the bartender was impressed with her skill, the bouncer showed her and her friend to the door. Neither fared too well at the next place either and that's where Kirstin's memory of what happened became a little fuzzy. It didn't help that the two women, who were already intoxicated, engaged in a shot contest with another bar-slug. Kirstin had a vague memory of some crazy striptease type dancing and a fight. Whether she started the fight, ended it or was in the middle of it she had no clue. Her head was certainly pounding like she was the victim … or knowing herself like she did she could have been the instigator. Whatever the case, her antics landed her squarely in a room that was anything but her assigned dorm room at the barracks on the base.

"Mayeye odbe in tha rig," Kirstin mumbled as she forced herself off the cot and stared out the bars of the cell. Mackenzie turned slowly eyeing each wall. "I desseta be punnsh. Thiz plaz doesn't hava ahead?" she growled and hiccupped all in the same breath. "Evenma une room udio on lana hasa yead." She turned and spied the stainless steel toilet/sink combo in the corner of the room. "Thzaead? It luzlika aceip head!" She hiccupped and started to giggle uncontrollably again. "Kin I getake upall? Ello? I needake pall! Iva beata SGZ atwevenoclox!" Just like before, no one answered.

"Whoa," she moaned as she felt dizzy and made an uncoordinated dash for the metal bowl. She barely made it to the toilet before her body expelled the poison in her system. After puking her guts out, Kirstin rolled into the fetal position on the floor of the cell and promptly passed out.

* * *

He could feel the morning sun gently teasing him. He exhaled slowly and curled his body around the heater next to him, trailing kisses down the nape of her neck and smiled as a gasp escaped her lips. There was something so familiar about the woman next to him, something so recognizable about their relationship and yet strange all the same.

The only way it made any sense to him, this crazy relationship between two strangers from different worlds, was it was just meant to be. It was comforting in a way, the unconditional acknowledgment between them. No matter what happened, he knew she would understand be it from experience or just because she knew him like no other. His fanatical moods were predictable to her, his passion for sports that were seen as barbaric to an outsider, tolerable, his love of the aphrodisiac of thrill acceptable. He didn't have to pretend to be someone else because she accepted him just as he was.

It was a two way street, he accepted her just for her. She enticed him. Intrigued him. Mystified him. Predictable wouldn't be a word he used to describe her and perhaps that's what drew him in. She wasn't like any other that he had been with; she kept her feelings about him at bay and chose to communicate with him in a manner that left something to interpretation. As far as their personal time, she didn't need to be entertained and that alone was appealing. Like he, she was a loner and could amuse herself as easily as he could occupy her time. Their intimate time was as varied as their relationship. She needed to feel his touch, but didn't need to take it further. He didn't have to worry about her getting in a funk when he wasn't in the mood and when he was, she was all too happy to oblige.

He wanted her attention now as he grazed his teeth across her shoulder and pushed her pajama bottoms down her legs. He rubbed himself against her rear and reached between her legs to trace lazy circles on the insides of her thighs. He could feel her responding to him, taunting him, grinding against him. He couldn't stand to wait any longer, feeling the need to be closer to her. He pushed her leg to her chest and rolled her up on all fours and the pressed himself against her heat. He blinked several times as he felt his eyes fluttered up in his head, the sensation overloading his nerve endings before he could even process the feelings.

"Oh gad, baby," he moaned as he rocked into her center in slow even strokes. The slick wet environment beckoned him like hot lava, covering his energy like a warm glove. He watched, mesmerized as she caught his rhythm and moved with him creating music meant only for their ears. She was tight and he could feel her contracting around him, sucking him into her void, calling to him in deep throaty tones.

"McKay to Sheppard."

"Fuck!" Sheppard cursed. "What kind of timing is that?" he said aloud to no one as he strained to look over at his radio on the nightstand. The room was quiet, the images of his dream replaced by the emptiness of his room. The only lingering effect was his arousal standing at attention. John wrapped his hand around it and roughly squeezed while rolling to his side. He grabbed the radio and pushed the ear piece to activate the mic.

"Sheppard,"' he snapped.

"Where are you?" McKay's voice crackled over the airwaves. "I thought we were going to have a team breakfast this morning?"

_Fuck! _John thought looking at his watch. He never stopped stroking himself as he answered, likening it too the thrill of being caught. "I'll be down in a minute," he muttered and tossed the earwig back on the night stand.

"Aw Kirstin," he whispered closing his eyes. He quickened his strokes and took himself back to the bed they shared only moments ago.

* * *

Trip rested his head against the cool tile wall of the shower and let the water pound over his back and neck. He was both exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time. He had gotten less than a couple hours of sleep, but gained a wealth of knowledge about his mate. _And she is my mate, _he reminded himself. _For better or worse, through jealous and possessiveness. _

He never thought of himself as the jealous type. His un-written code of conduct in previous relationships had always been _take it or leave it_. Tucker fit the role of the normal guy, good looks, charming, no patience for drama or crap. Then T'Pol walked into his life and everything he had ever lived by, every condition of his 'man-card', every guy-line went out the airlock.

He had been drawn to her from the day one. He was protective of her, loved to argue with her, felt stupid in a school-boy crush way around her. Jealous, yeah, he'd been jealous but not because he had ever felt like another man was interested in her …. Because other people spent time with her and connected with her in ways he didn't even understand. _Like Phlox, what the hell did he do for her? He was annoying as hell, _Trip mused remembering the Denobulian physician that was assigned to Enterprise.

But never in a million years would Tucker have ever had guessed that his main competition for T'Pol's affection was …. _Agh! _Trip spun around in the shower and stepped back under the water, rinsing off one final time. He turned the water off and stood motionless inside the small shower compartment. "There's no sense it getting freaked out about it," he chided himself softly. "It's not like I can challenge the guy to a dual over her."

Trip pushed the shower door opened and step out into the steamy bathroom. He knew everything… the guilt she had felt when she had turned him down three years ago, the reasons why she had never taken another mate, how she had told his friend, his comrade, his captain of her intentions and the argument that ensued afterward. He had felt the euphoria of the moment the seed was planted and heard his name…Charles Tucker the Third's name…escape her lips when her future was sealed. He knew all the reasons why it happened and all her desires as they lived out their days, but it didn't make it any better. _She's pregnant with Jonathan Archer's baby!_

Tucker sighed as he toweled off. _Maybe it would be different if it had been a complete stranger, _he argued and then started chuckling. "I'm an idiot," he muttered. "Why would raising Jonathan Archer's son be any different than a complete stranger's?" he questioned himself in a whisper. "Because I'm fricken jealous it was him?" Trip shook his head and tried to make sense of it all. He had heard Archer's argument with T'Pol, defending his honor and reminding her of the love she tried so hard to deny. Archer was acting on Trip's behalf, looking out for his best interests, taking care of his mate.

All good intentions aside, Trip was still … _I'm fricken jealous! I should be happy that she's having his baby! I should be honored to raise his son as my own! I should be ecstatic that for the first time in her life T'Pol has admitted to me that she loves me, that she's always loved me. I should be gloating that she screamed out my name in the middle of her orgasm with him… and yet ….agh!_ Trip threw the towel into the hamper and walked out of the room toward the bedroom. 'Yep, I'm an idiot!"

* * *

"Rise and shine Major Mackenzie!"

A not so gentle nudge at her side forced Major Mackenzie to open her eyes. She blinked several times as she tried to focus on the dull gray ceiling of her holding cell. Her head was clouded by a persistent thud behind her eyes and her stomach twisting in the wind.

"On your feet Marine!" the stern male voice above her ordered.

Kirstin responded out of instinct and bolted off of the cot. Her willingness to obey the order was short lived. As soon as her body locked into an upright pose, her knees buckled and she slithered to the hard cell floor.

"Guess you owe me twenty bucks," a second male voice said chuckled from across the room.

"I should know better than to bet with you," the first voice said. "She fought the whole way to the cell. Guess I thought she still had some fight left in her."

"Or maybe she realized you're just a lowly sergeant and that you can't give her an order," the other replied.

"I can hear you," Mackenzie growled from the floor. "I'm not dead."

The two guards glanced at each other. "Then get your butt off the deck. This isn't club med major," the first guard said flatly. "Your JAG representative is waiting to speak to you."

"JAG rep? Since when do I need a JAG rep?" Kirstin asked pushing herself into a kneeling position until her stomach settled enough to stand.

"Since you clocked the security officer that was detaining you this morning," the other guard remarked. "If I'm not mistaken, that would be conduct unbecoming of an officer."

"Do I get to change first?" she asked looking straight at the floor, fighting the urge to puke.

"Not unless you packed a change of clothes," one of the guards smarted back.

Kirstin rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Frick," she mumbled under her breath. _I wonder if post Michael- traumatic syndrome will work as my defense. _Kirstin managed to pull herself to her feet and follow the sergeant out of her cell and down the corridor to an interview room. He held the door open, allowing her to enter first and then followed, taking a position just inside the door.

"Major Mackenzie," the cocky looking JAG attorney greeted her as she walked to the center of the room. He was dressed in a Marine uniform, all high and tight, and had that _look _about him that defined a marine, but Kirstin was suspicious of him all the same. "Have a seat," he said motioning at a chair.

"If it's alright with you," she stammered her tongue feeling swollen and her mouthy pasty. "I'll stand." Kirstin stood solidly next to the table, hands behind her back and careful not to lock in her knees.

"Suit yourself," he said flipping open a file folder on the table top. "Let's talk about last night."

"Let's not and say we did," she muttered as her stomach lurched. A wave of nausea and vertigo hit her all at once and she crumpled to her knees at the side of the table. From out of nowhere a garbage can appeared in front of her face and she coughed what was left in her stomach in to the plastic-lined container.

Mackenzie's vision narrowed to a black veil and she squeezed her eyes shut as she fought back the tears. _I will not cry in front of this marine, _she told herself just as every fiber of her subconscious wanted to scream in agony. She cringed as a stabbing sensation shot through her face from her jaw. _Michael's trying to kill me. _The thought flashed through her head as she felt a cool towel being placed on the back of her neck. It brought her little relief as jumbled thoughts on who put it there started to clog her mind.

* * *

"I made coffee," T'Pol informed Trip as he walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully. She was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and one of his white button-down shirts. Her stomach looked a lot smaller in street clothes than she had in her slinky nightgown. In any event she still took his breath away. "Since when do you know how to make coffee?" he asked buttoning up his white Navy uniform shirt.

"I've picked up a few things in the past few years," she said picking up her own cup and taking a sip. "It's decaf," she added.

"A useless excuse for coffee," he replied pouring a cup. "Unless…you're pregnant." Trip leaned against the counter and took a sip. Silence fell between them, but oddly enough Trip didn't feel awkward. _Okay, that's not true, _he thought taking a sip of his drink to distract himself. _I need to say something. Say something! _Obviously T'Pol was thinking the same thing because they both started talking at once.

"I should have been…," T'Pol started to say.

"I'm not ma...," Trip blurted out. He stopped short when he realized he interrupted her. "Sorry," he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "You can …go first," he stammered pointing at her with his coffee cup.

"I should have told you about my child's parentage," T'Pol remarked staring into her cup.

"No, you did the right thing," Trip shook his head. "It was better to wait. It let me digest things one step ata time." He stared uncomfortably into the cup. "Can I ask you something? If Archer wouldn't have died…would you have joined the mission with Malcolm to find me?" He didn't look up because he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"If Jonathan hadn't died, he would have led the mission," T'Pol said flatly.

_Good answer, _he said to himself. Trip ran his tongue over the side of his cheek and tilted his head in thought. "That would have been complicated," he said aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"Jon knew you were in love with me and slept with you so weren't with a stranger during your pon farr. Now you're pregnant with his son. If he had survived and we hadn't landed in another time line I wonder how this would have all played out." Trip asked setting the cup down on the counter top. "Or if everything had played out the same, except that he led the mission … who would you have ended up with?"

"Perhaps in another universe that reality is playing out as we speak," T'Pol replied arching her brow quizzically.

"Is that your way of telling me to stow it?" Trip asked her with a perplexed expression on his face.

"I believe Jonathan would have stepped aside to accommodate our true feelings," T'Pol remarked.

Trip started to chuckle. "That is if you would have been willing to admit your true feelings."

"I admitted them to you last night."

"Yeah, after you held them in for the past five, six years," Trip yelped. "Why now?"

"I thought I made that clear last night," T'Pol replied getting defensive.

"Ye...agh," Trip mumbled. He chided himself mentally for arguing with her. "You know what? It doesn't matter. The what-if's don't matter. I'm not going to live in the past or the other reality," he threw his hands up in the air and paced into the dining room. "It just is what it is between us."

"Trip!" T'Pol called following him out of the kitchen. When he turned to look at her she softened her tone. "You are my mate."

"Are you ready to be more than that?" he asked calling her bluff. "More than just my girlfriend?"

"I …" her words caught in her throat. "I think it would be best if we take things one step at a time."

"Now you're using my words on me," he remarked tilting his head to the side. "You want me to raise Archer's son as my own?" He already knew the answer. She had told him in their link last night. He wanted to hear it aloud. To verbalize it so she couldn't change her mind or tell him that he misinterpreted her thoughts later.

"That is what I want," she replied firmly.

"And what about my offer….about living with me?"

"The setting is tranquil and appropriate for raising a child," she said looking away from him. "I would, however, feel more comfortable delivering on Atlantis."

Trip smiled and stepped to her side. _That's a start, _he reminded himself quietly. _I'll have plenty of time to work on the "M" word. _"You can go back there to have the baby," he said wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her into his chest and nuzzled his nose into her neck. "And then we'll move your stuff back here," he mumbled planting his lips on hers. It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. Tucker knew that no good would come from this. _I'm going to be late for work, _he thought as he felt compelled to kiss her again and again. _I can't just run down the hall and duck into engineering like I did on Enterprise, _he yelled at himself subconsciously.

Tucker forced himself to disconnect from her lips just as the phone rang in the background. _Fricken saved by the bell, _Trip thought as he let go of T'Pol and reached around to grab the handset off the breakfast bar.

"Commander Ta…Doyle," Trip said stumbling over his cover name. "Yes General. Major Mackenzie? Yes sir…. Ah, I can be there within the hour. Yes sir," he answered and hit the end button on the phone. "We need to go," he said as he tossed the phone back on the breakfast bar and walked over to shut the coffee maker off. "Mackenzie's …," he shook his head and scowled. "Are you packed?"

"Yes," T'Pol answered noting the worry on his face. "Kirstin?"

"She's in deep shit," Tucker remarked heading down the hallway to grab his travel bag.

* * *

"Feeling better Major?"

Kirstin heard the male voice and turned her head away from the sound. Her eyes still burned from the dull thud pounding behind them. The stabbing pain monopolized the side of her face. She opened her eyes slowly only to be confronted with the familiar sight of a hospital room. A lab tech walked around the side of her bed with a clipboard in his hand and stared up at the monitor above her head. _I'm still in that room! _Kirstin's mind started to race and the bank of monitors over the bed started to beep wildly.

"Major Mackenzie!" a louder male voice reverberated in her head. "Relax. You're in the infirmary at SGC. You're safe. Take a deep breath."

Kirstin bit her lip as she felt someone put an oxygen cup over her mouth. _I know that voice, _she thought pushing the hand away. It was the SGC psychologist, Captain Edwards. "Captain?" she muttered as she pulled the oxygen mask off her face.

"Yes Major," he replied leaning over her bed. "How do you feel?"

Kirstin rolled her head to the side. "Are we going to start that again?" she asked as she struggled to sit up.

"I meant it sincerely," Edwards chuckled and adjusted the recline control of the bed so she was sitting as opposed to lying down.

Kirstin glanced over at him. Edwards had that fatherly look about him, even though Mackenzie was certain he was just a few years older than she. His hair was turning salt-n-pepper and he wore it short like a marine. What Kirstin liked about the man was he didn't bull shit her around, didn't ask how she felt, didn't sugar coat his analysis and most of all he seemed to get it, much like Sheppard or Lorne or Jeeter.

"How'd I get here?" she asked as she tried to remember what had happened in the last few hours. The vague memories that filtered through her head only antagonized the searing pain that was already pulsing through it.

"I thought I told you yesterday to take it easy?" he scolded her gently. "You were brought here from the brig after you collasped," the captain said frankly.

"Hmm," Kirstin mumbled and then sucked in some air. "I thought that was a dream."

"No, sorry to disappoint you," he said with half a smile.

"So what are the charges again?" Kirstin asked struggling to put the previous night's events together.

"There aren't any charges," Edwards informed her. "I've recommended that you be remanded to Commander Doyle's custody."

"Oh crap," Kirstin gasped. "He knows?" _Fricken great, _she thought as she felt her headache getting worse.

"Would you rather be in the brig?" Edwards questioned when he saw the grimace on her face.

"No," she replied remorsefully. "Commander Doyle just has a tendency to be…" she paused as she tried to find the right word. "_Overprotective," _she finally said.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," he reminded her.

"Yeah, if you like to be smothered," Kirstin smarted back. She exhaled hard and looked up at the ceiling. "If there are no charges then why was I being held in the brig?"

"You were in _protective custody._"

"Protected from whom?"

"Yourself," he replied. "Base security found you barricaded in the men's bathroom at a bar called _Dopes. _According to witnesses, when security tried to get you to come out, you attacked them."

The image made Kirstin chuckle despite having no memory of it. "I attacked them?" she laughed.

"Apparently they didn't get the memo about regarding your martial arts training," he said arching his brow at her. "You'll have another trophy for your memory book," he said pointing at her face. "You got a nice shiner there."

"Is that why my face is pounding?"

"Uh huh, your cheek bone is cracked again," he said waving his finger at his own cheek.

"Great," she muttered rolling her eyes. "Let me guess, I fell against the sink, ran into a doorknob?"

"Actually a bar patron told security that you bit him while performing fellatio and he backhanded you," Edwards informed her frankly.

"What?" Mackenzie exclaimed. "That's a fricken lie!"

"Are you sure about that?" He asked her with raised eyebrows. "Your blood alcohol was twice the legal limit." He flipped open the file folder he was holding and handed her the blood alcohol analysis. "In this time line that's what point two zero equals."

"Did they check him for bite marks?" Kirstin scowled looking at the report and handing back to the air force psychologist. "I can't open my mouth that far. Look!" she opened her mouth as far as she could without her face feeling like it was going to split in two and then squeezed a finger in between her teeth. "That's as far as it opens, so unless his dick was as small as my pinky, there is no way it was in my mouth!"

Edwards winced at the visual display even though he secretly wanted to laugh in her face. "I informed JAG that your jaw was wired shut two days ago and that it was unlikely that you instigated any oral sexual contact with the complainant."

"Finally someone outside of the military on Atlantis or my shipmates from Hero that understands me," she said dropping her hands in her lap.

* * *

"Nice outfit," Tucker commented to Mackenzie they walked out of the infirmary. At some point this morning, she had donned a pair of BDU's, but she was sure that wasn't what Tucker was referring too. The grey t-shirt she was wearing proudly claimed to be property of the USAF Peterson Brig.

"Better than an orange jumpsuit or a puke-stained blouse," Kirstin replied curtly. "I need to go to the barracks to get my stuff," she added without a care in the world to what just happened to her.

"I sent someone to get it," Trip said crisply completely annoyed with her attitude. She had dropped one too many wise-cracks in the infirmary for his liking. "It will be in the gate room when we get down there." Tucker looked around the hallway to check for listening ears. "I need to speak to you alone," he said motioning for her to follow him to the nearest conference room. He had barely shut the door behind them when she started sputtering off apologizes.

"Lock it up Major!" he ordered. He watched her snap to attention. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what _that _is going to do to your record? Of course not, because you don't take the time to think about the consequences!" Trip said loudly.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" she asked completely confused. "Captain Edwards told me there would be no charges," she said not waiting for him to answer.

Trip stared at the Mackenzie. She didn't get it. For being a genius, Kirstin seriously lacked some common sense at times. "Of course there isn't going to be any charges because JAG thinks you're a nut job!" he said slowly. "Your little drunken rampage last night just stepped back your chances of being reinstated to active duty by a couple of weeks. Which, in case you forgot, that was the whole purpose of this trip to Earth! This isn't Starfleet where the CMO dispenses some valium and sends you back to duty Major!" He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "What the hell were you thinking? Mayweather said he paid the cab fare for your trip back to the base, so why the hell did you get out of the car?"

"The driver put me out and…"

"And what?" Tucker cut her off as his tirade transitioned from commanding officer to protective big brother. "You were thirsty?" Trip paced around the room. "JAG and Captain Edwards both have witness statements that you were giving lap dances to various bar patrons … and then these allegations you were in the process of blowing this guy…"

"I did not give that guy a blow job!" Mackenzie yelled interrupting him. "Sir, respectfully," she added when she caught his piecing glare.

"You know that for a fact?"

"Not exactly," she muttered looking anywhere but his eyes, which were burning a hole right through her. She didn't need him to tell her that she screwed up, that was obvious. A few months ago, she would have never done something so reckless, but since being mind-fucked by Michael, Kirstin was hardly herself.

"This is a mess Major," Tucker said flatly. "And if you don't think Colonel Sheppard is going to find out what happened, you have another thing coming."

Kirstin felt her face flush as his words hung in the air and then drilled right through her heart. It wasn't that she didn't think he would find out, she just didn't know the extent of her bar-room escapades. _I was giving lap-dances? Crap! _

"Trip?" she asked with hesitation in her voice. When Trip turned to look at her, his demeanor had softened slightly. "What am I going to say to John," she blurted out, looking at him as her friend.

"I don't know Kirstin," he replied quietly. "That's the age-old dilemma of a bar-room indiscretion."

* * *

Colonel Sheppard walked into the conference room and slumped down in the nearest chair. He couldn't believe what was going on across the base … the nightmares that everyone was having with him as the bad guy. _Hardly the kind of person I'd like to be in someone's dream, _he thought as he watched Keller, Heightmeyer, Teyla and Ronon filter into room.

His eyes lingered on Teyla for a moment and he thought back to how uncomfortable she had been with him at breakfast the day before. _Why do I get the impression that a little more went on in Teyla's dream that she's admitting. Maybe it was something sexual and she won't admit it. Maybe it was a mutual thing? Maybe it started out sexual and then went all wonky. Just the thought of it turns me on, _he thought adjusting himself discretely in his seat. _Geezus there goes that sex on the brain thing. How much longer until Joes gets back here? _He looked at his watch and sighed. Not soon enough he feared_. _

Kirstin had been on Earth five days. Five days to fix her jaw, have some dental work done and have the SGC psychologist clear her to return to active duty. The fact that she actually survived there all five days impressed him. _That breaks her previous record by forty eight hours, _he thought as he counted it up.

Her recovery from her abduction was progressing slowly. Kirstin refused to talk to Heightmeyer about it._ All she asks me is how I feel and then she says she understands. Has she ever been off world or held hostage? She has no idea how to even begin to understand how I feel! _Kirstin had screamed after she walked out of her third and last session with Kate over the _Michael incident_.

After that Kirstin talked to Sheppard mostly or Lorne and Jeeter and sought out her comrades from Hero: Alvarez, Bowyer, Kavan, Schmitt and T'Pol. Still she didn't like people to call her by first name and bristled when John used nicknames like _honey_ or _baby_. She was jumpy, often jerking away from his touch and felt like people were treating her with kid gloves. Her sleep was plagued with nightmares and while she tried to keep up a stoic front, the slightest movement or break from routine set her off. Kirstin was teetering on the edge of a major meltdown and it frightened John as well. She only let her guard down around him and he was waiting cautiously from the sidelines for the other shoe to fall.

About the only thing Kate had been spot on about was their sex life. Their intimate moments had reverted back to exploration, learning the boundaries and building trust. As much as Kirstin wanted to give herself to him, she was scared and most nights trembled in his arms. _It has only been a couple of weeks, _John reminded himself. The reality was it could take months to undo what happened in just a couple of days.

It was crucial her appointment with the SGA psychologist went well. Both he and Carter felt the only way she was going to get back to _normal _was to get back to work. Physically she was ready. Mentally, it was time to put the abduction behind her. _Lock it away in that room, _she had told him the other day when he had helped her move to her new quarters.

John pulled himself from his thoughts in time to watch McKay walk into the room and begin to pace around the perimeter. Sheppard let him get away with it for about twelve seconds before he gave him the death look.

"Rodney, sit down," he growled from across the table.

"I'm fine right here," Rodney replied defiantly.

Before John could say anything else, Colonel Carter breezed into the room.

"Okay, all off world teams have been contacted and instructed not to return for the time being. Gate travel will be restricted to an as needed basis. Midway has been notified and is halting all arrivals."

"Kirstin?" John muttered not meaning to say it aloud.

"Major Mackenzie, T'Pol and Commander Doyle will be held up at Midway until further notice," Carter informed him. "All non-essential personnel will be restricted to quarters until we have a handle on this," Carter added.

"Is that really necessary?" Ronon asked swiveling in his chair. "It's just a few bad dreams right?"

"Maybe to you," Sheppard replied. "You're not the one that had a gun held to his head."

"Yeah? Well I saved your ass didn't I?" Ronon reminded him. "Again!"

"Not like he was really going to shoot me," Sheppard mumbled.

"Are you sure about that?" Ronon asked. "I seem to remember that you were shaking in your boots."

"I was not," Sheppard replied rolling his eyes. "I only started to get nervous when Teyla pointed that ARG at me."

"Right," Ronon said shaking his head.

"Excuse me?" Rodney grumbled from the side of the room. "What does this have to do with everyone having nightmares?"

"It has everything to do with it," Heightmeyer interjected. "This entity seems to feed off fear."

"So? It's not like we can make an announcement city wide for everyone to refrain from being afraid," McKay retorted rolling his eyes.

"No, but we can isolate anyone that has had contact with Major Lorne today," Carter replied. "John, take your team back to the planet and see if you can find another one of these things.

"You just restricted gate travel," Rodney protested.

"I said on an _as needed_ basis," Carter reminded him. "I think this qualifies."

"Great," McKay grumbled turning to walk out the door of the conference room.

"Sorry McKay, guess that planet isn't good for your honeymoon retreat," Ronon joked as he followed the physicist out of the room.

* * *

Kirstin Mackenzie lay on the bunk of her temporary quarters at Midway and pulled the pillow over her head. Saying that she felt like crap barely described her symptoms, her head pounded like it was on the verge of exploding, her face throbbed from her over-sensitive nerve endings and her stomach tumbled and cramped with irritation. Kirstin wanted nothing more than to be back on Atlantis snuggled in her own bed with her grandmother's quilt wrapped around her. It would even be nice if John was lying next to her applying a cold compress to the back of her neck or holding her hair back while she puked or rubbing her back comfortingly like he had after her abduction. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She, T'Pol and Trip had gated through from Earth four hours ago and because of some crisis on Atlantis, they were stuck until further notice.

That left Mackenzie to suffer through her ailment on the hard bunk on Midway and contemplate her morality on her own. _I survived Michael … I can survive this hangover, _she told herself frankly as she tried to slow her breathing. _I'm never going to drink again! _she thought feeling her stomach backing up in her throat. _How much can one person puke? _she questioned as she dived for the stainless steel toilet bowl in the corner of the room.

A few minutes later, Kirstin rolled back onto the floor in a sweaty wet heap. "I feel like crap," she moaned as she closed her eyes. "Really, how much more can I take?" she mumbled under her breath. _Think good thoughts, _she reminded herself. _Think about what you are going to do to Sheppard when you get home. Home … Atlantis. _A smile crept across her face as she connected the three words, Sheppard, Atlantis and home. Kirstin felt her body relax as she concentrated on the warmth she would feel in just a few hours.

--

"Major Mackenzie?" T'Pol called out after she rapped lightly on the door to Kirstin's temporary quarters. Neither she nor Trip had seen her since they had arrived seven hours ago. T'Pol listened intently for any movement inside the room and when she heard nothing she knocked again. "Kirstin?"

"Enter," a muffled voice responded a moment later.

T'Pol pushed the door open and was assaulted by the antiseptic odor of a room deodorizer. She scanned the room quickly and found everything in place. Major Mackenzie was on her side on the bunk, her face flushed and her breathing labored. "Are you alright?" she asked bluntly.

"I guess," Kirstin mumbled from the bunk. "I feel like crap."

"Trip and I are gating back to SGC. Perhaps you should accompany us and be checked out at the infirmary," T'Pol said stepping farther into the room.

"I'm not sick," Kirstin replied. "I just feel like crap."

"Are they not the same thing?" T'Pol questioned.

"I have a hangover, there isn't anything the infirmary can do for me," Kirstin said rolling on her back.

T'Pol stepped to the bed and sat down on the edge, picking up Kirstin's hand and gently pinching a fold of skin. The skin was dry and slow to bounce back. She slid her fingers over to her wrist and felt for a pulse. Mackenzie's heart was racing. "How many times have you vomited today?"

"A bunch."

"Have you taken in any fluids since you left the infirmary this morning?" T'Pol placed the back of her hand on Kirstin's forehead.

"I tried, but it came right back up," Kirstin answered feeling her stomach lurch again.

"Do you have a headache?"

"Among other things," Kirstin said watching T'Pol step over to the wall comm panel. "I feel dizzy every time I move."

"T'Pol to the control room. Send a medic and Commander Doyle to Major Mackenzie's room immediately."

"T'Pol that's not necessary. I just have a hangover. I'll be fine in a couple of hours," Kirstin protested.

"On the contrary, Major. You were diagnosed with alcohol poisoning and are now suffering from dehydration," T'Pol replied wetting a wash cloth in the sink and walking back toward the bunk. "You are in desperate need of fluids and medication and need to be treated in the infirmary at the SGC."

* * *

John Sheppard strode through the door of Carter's office and paced around the desk in deep thought. This whole nightmare thing was getting out of hand. The thought of people on the base having nightmares with him as the bad-guy star was unnerving to say the least. It didn't help that all the dreams had a death theme and now that _thing _was in Rodney … the weakest link of his team. Sheppard had to do something … quickly.

"I think it knows it's trapped," John finally said looking up at Sam. She had followed him into the room and was standing quietly near her worktable.

"What makes you think that?" Carter asked not understanding where he was going with this.

"Jumping from person to person with death as a reoccurring theme?" Sheppard spelled out. "It's dying."

Sam thought about it and dropped her arms in frustration. "It's a stretch."

"Maybe there's a way to…I don't know… reason with it," John said as his mind raced to figure out a way to save his friend.

Sam smirked as she considered it. She knew he was desperate to make this right. People were starting to act weird around him. He was the military commander of the base, the one that kept everyone safe and now some strange entity that took his form was trying to kill people. It was ironic actually. Sheppard was usually the one to do the killing, not thinking diplomatically on how to overcome the bad-guy. _Elizabeth had really wore off on him, _she thought as she considered everything. "Being in Weirs old office make you think of that?

"Maybe," John said resting his hands on his hips. "I'm no diplomat. I'm used to just shooting the bad guys." He looked up and caught Ronon and Teyla crossing the bridge to the office.

"We just heard," Ronon said.

"There must be something we can do," Teyla added.

"That's what we were just talking about," Carter said drawing up into a command role. "Okay … lets just say you could communicate with it. What were you planning on saying?"

John shook his head. "I don't know, I hadn't thought about that yet," he muttered scanning the three in front of him.

Carter bit her lip and leaned against the table. "It seems to me if it feeds on fear or likes killing its host that it would take the last chance it had."

"To kill McKay," Sheppard summarized. "I'm not about to let that happen." He tapped his fingers on the desk top and the snapped his fingers in a McKay like style. "What about survival? It's trapped. Will it die without a living host to transfer too?"

"We could give it a chance to leave, to go home," Teyla said throwing the idea into the mix.

"Back into the crystals?" Ronon asked with a questioning glare.

"Sure why not?" Sheppard shrugged. "Send it through the gate back to its home planet."

"Will that work?" Ronon asked looking from Sheppard to Carter to Teyla. "I need to learn more about science," Ronon mumbled as he sat on the back of the chair. This stuff baffled him. He knew how to fight, not how to reach alien entities stuck in someone's head. "Too bad T'Pol isn't here to do that mind meld thing," he said under his breath.

"Has she made it too Midway?" Teyla asked. "Perhaps she could come through…."

"No, it's too risky," John interrupted defensively. "I mean, it's a good idea, but she's too close to her due date. This _thing _kills. I don't want to be the one responsible for her losing her baby."

"John's right," Carter said flatly agreeing with him. "We'll just have to figure out another way. I've heard of people being talked through waking dreams before….Maybe McKay could be hypnotized into a state of consciousness where he could communicate with it."

"He has successfully achieved a meditative state before," Teyla said.

"Yeah, when he was genetically enhanced," Ronon replied rolling his eyes. "McKay's not the guy to tell this thing to hit the road. He can't even shoot his P-90 straight half the time."

"I think you are being too hard on him," Teyla said in McKay's defense. "He did help lure the black energy mass through the gate our first couple of days on Atlantis."

"Only because he was wearing his personal shield barrier," Sheppard said waving his hand over his chest. "Scary things aren't exactly his strength."

"And he's up against a creature that is capable of manipulating the sub conscious," Carter reminded them. "On any given day he has nightmares about lemons trying to kill him."

"Yeah, that isn't good," John scowled. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wish there was a way to get in there."

"Into his dreams?" Teyla asked with a confused expression on her face.

"Yeah, you know … give him a little moral support?" Sheppard said looking at the other three in the room. He settled his glare on Carter. "Come on, in all the things you experienced, you've never come across a way for one person to get into another's dreams?

* * *

"Major Mackenzie."

Kirstin lifted the arm covering her eyes and looked up into the face of Captain Edwards. Of course he wasn't standing there alone. The JAG attorney from earlier today was standing right next to him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kirstin growled as she pushed herself up on the bed.

"Just clearing up some items from earlier," the Marine Major said crisply.

"Umm hmm," Kirstin mumbled. "And if I hadn't gotten sick? I would have been safely back on my base," she retorted. _Damn T'Pol for bringing me to the infirmary, _she thought biting her lip.

"As I said earlier, there are no charges," Captain Edwards informed her. "Major McBrumy is just trying to clear up some of the details."

"I don't remember the details," Kirstin reiterated as she trailed her gaze from Edwards to the Marine, McBrumy. "How many times do I need to tell you that?"

"Commander Doyle thinks there is a way to jog your memories," McBrumy replied. "If you're feeling up to it."

Kirstin was silent for a moment and the caught sight of T'Pol in the hallway of the Infirmary. "A mind meld?" she muttered under her breath.

"I've been assured that it is safe," Captain Edwards began to say when he thought she was apprehensive.

Kirstin shook her head. "It's not that," she started to say, watching T'Pol approach her bed. "There are other things that I don't want to remember," she said carefully.

"I can filter out those images," T'Pol assured her from the foot of the bed. "I will talk you through the events of last night only."

"It will go along way to help your apprehensiveness with your boyfriend," Edwards added.

Kirstin was silent for a moment as she considered her options. The three next to her bed weren't going away and Trip knew she wouldn't say no if it meant finding out the truth in order to ward off an uncomfortable situation with Sheppard. "I guess," Kirstin muttered looking Edwards in the eye. "It's not like I really have a choice."

"Oh, you have choices," the JAG attorney chuckled. "The military just makes them for you."

* * *

The soft glow from the city lights bouncing gently off the water was a hypnotic lure that hooked Sheppard as he stared into it. He stared down at the tablet and reread the incident report in front of him. There was nothing he liked about it. Bar room brawls and drunken escapades all spelled _s-t-r-e-s-s_ to him. He could hardly be upset about it. He had been waiting for something like this to happen. He had been there too many times himself. _Except I don't give drunken lap dances, _he countered in his head. He pushed the tablet across the table and rested his head on his hands instead. _I've slept with strangers when I was drunk. She rubbed up against them and….then…got herself into some shit. _

John cringed as the thought passed through his head. He had been an advocate of Kirstin relaxing and letting off some steam while on Earth. If he had been with her, he probably would have encouraged a little craziness. The notion of getting a bar room lap dance from his woman would have lead to some pretty amazing sex in his mind. But as quickly as the pleasant thought filled his head, the danger of the situation replaced it. _Bet that's what that idiot thought too. The guy got off lucky with just a broken nose. _John ran his fingers over the bridge of his unconsciously. _Of course, he does have assault charges pending against him; maybe he'll be someone's bitch in jail. _He sighed and looked out the windows at the ocean again.

"Hey John," Teyla's voice called to him from the side of the room.

"Teyla."

"I couldn't sleep," she said pulling out the chair across from him. "Working on your incident report?" she asked when she noticed the tablet on the table.

"Ah…not exactly," Sheppard replied steepling his hands in front of his face. "Reading one actually." He looked over at his teammate and caught the questioning expression in her eye. "Kirstin's in the infirmary at SGC."

"What?" Teyla coughed out, her voice filled with concern. "Is she okay?"

"Treated for dehydration," John explained leaning back in his chair. "From over-indulging her last night on Earth."

"Ah," Teyla said rolling her eyes. She knew all too well what that meant. "Will she be released soon?"

"Yeah, Colonel Carter is arranging for me to gate back to get her right now," he said shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly to try to play down his concern. "Captain Edwards, the SGC psychologist, suggested that I take a couple of days lof eave to …..spend some one on one time with Kirstin."

"You deserve that," Teyla replied. "It will do her good to be alone with you and _reset _your relationship."

"You think it needs resetting?" he asked with a curious expression on his face.

"The friendship between you …no," Teyla said with a smirk. "The intimate side?"

"What intimate side?" John retorted with a smile on his face. Teyla knew him all too well.

"Exactly my point."

* * *

John Sheppard stepped out on the deck of the vacation villa on Marco Island with a glass of chilled wine in his hand. The sun had set hours ago and the moon was shining brightly in the sky, lighting up the gulf in an eerie bluish white tint. A cool breeze ruffled through his hair as he scanned the beach in front of the villa, looking for his traveling companion. He spotted her huddled form a couple hundred feet down the beach and headed down the stairs to be with her.

He covered the distance slowly. They had been on the island a day and it had been a rough twenty four hours. Dealing with emotionally distraught females had never been Sheppard's strong suit, but he was thankful the last few years working with Elizabeth and Teyla had forced his hand a bit.

Kirstin had been feeling a little suffocated when they had first arrived. The overnight stay in the SGC infirmary, the flight from Peterson to Florida and the confrontation with the demons of her memory in the mind-meld with T'Pol had all worked her nerves to the breaking point. Then there was her tear-jerking admission about her bar-room craziness and the heart felt apology that almost lead to some really awesome sex. _Almost, _Sheppard reminded himself as he walked the final few steps. She still wasn't ready to give herself to him completely and he wasn't going to force the issue. _She will when she's ready, _he thought as he plopped down on the sand next to her.

"Hey," he said digging his toes in the sand. "Dime for your thoughts."

"A dime?" Kirstin asked looking over at him. "I thought it was a penny?"

"Pennies are over-rated," he quipped. "Inflation."

Kirstin chuckled and shook her head. "How do you do that?" she muttered quietly reaching for the wine glass.

"Do what?"

"Make me smile when I'm feeling really crappy," she replied taking a sip of the wine.

"It's part of my charm. On occasion I can even work a smile out of McKay," John joked with her.

Kirstin eyed him carefully. "I hope you're working that out of him platonically," she said tersely as her teeth started to chatter.

"Don't worry…McKay's not my type," John said. He scooted behind her and straddled her body with his legs, pulling her back against his chest. She moved with him willingly and adjusted so she was snuggled against his chest. "Ronon or Lorne maybe in a pinch."

Kirstin said nothing in turn. She took a deep breath, taking in his scent and acknowledging the comfort and warmth he exuded, how safe she felt in his arms. It was time to start healing and put what had happened to her family behind her. "I was supposed to get married here," she said softly into the folds of his shirt.

The revelation surprised John a bit but he didn't even flinch. _Another window to her past, _he thought as he ran his hand over her back. "Right here?" he said as he processed what she said.

"Not right here cuz it's different than … in my century," she mumbled. "But here on the island. Up by the Marriott," she said pointing up the beach. "My dad, Cory and Ryan were down here finalizing everything when Earth was attacked."

John cupped her face in his hand and felt the tears running down her cheeks before she was even aware she was crying. He knew her brother's name was Cory, so Ryan was obviously... "Ryan was your fiancé?" he said as he brushed the wetness from her face.

"Yeah," she said. "He was a school teacher."

"You were engaged to a school teacher?" John guffawed. That completely surprised him. _Cop, bad ass, biker dude, martial arts expert, assassin, that was the type of guy he saw Kirstin married too … but a school teacher? _

"He taught first grade," she said with a chuckle.

"A school teacher?" John repeated still not believing his ears.

"What?" she said pushing back from his chest.

"Nothing," John backpedaled. "Its just … you don't… the type, for a teacher," he stammered as he watched her glare hardened.

"What is my type?" she asked him coolly.

"A bad ass … not a practical safe….," his voice trailed off and he looked at her helplessly. "Sorry," he conceded.

"My father loved Ryan," she said slumping back into John's chest.

"I bet," John mumbled twisting his fingers through her hair. "What about your brother?"

"He liked Ryan," she said slowly.

"But?" John prompted when he heard the hesitation in her voice.

"He thought Ryan was too prissy for me," Kirstin said as she burst into laughter.

"Ah ha!" John chuckled. "I'm not the only one."

"No, actually you are one of many," Kirstin said dejectedly. "My unit commander thought he was gay."

_Her brother was gay and thought the fiancé was prissy, _Sheppard noted silently. "Was he gay?" he asked tentatively.

"He complemented my personality," Kirstin replied avoiding the question. "And he planned the whole wedding."

"He planned the wedding?" John repeated.

"Yeah, he, Cory and Dad were down here taking care of the final details the week before," she said, repeating herself from earlier. "Dad came down to pay for everything and Cory came to protect my tom-boy interests."

"Where were you?" Sheppard asked seeing the picture play out in his mind.

"Ah … you don't want to know," she said sheepishly. She sat up to pick up the wine glass that John had buried in the sand and took a sip to detract from answering.

"Yes I do," John said tilting his head. "Joes?" he prodded her for an answer.

"I had drill," she whispered taking another sip.

"You what?" John half laughed in surprise. _She did not just say that! _He thought as he hit his mental rewind button. "You skipped out on planning your wedding because you had drill?"

"I couldn't get out of it!" she replied defensively. "I was in Major Hayes' elite squad which, by the way, was an honor for a reservist. He wouldn't let me off the hook for our weekend training." She flipped her red hair off her shoulder. "It's the military you know … you can't just call in sick."

"Major Hayes probably wouldn't let you off the hook because he didn't think you should marry the guy," John remarked flatly. _I think I would have liked this Major Hayes. _

"I secretly thought he had a crush on me," Kirstin shrugged her shoulders.

"Who? Major Hayes?"

"Yeah, he was always assigning me _special _projects," Kirstin said making quotation signs with her hands.

"Ah, I get it," Sheppard said with a sly grin. "You have a thing for military commanders."

"No," she replied flatly. "Major Hayes had a deck of jerk cards."

"Well, he couldn't have been too bad if he didn't want you to make a mistake with your life," John countered trying to turn the conversation to a positive. It didn't work as he watched her stare blindly at the sand.

"Ryan and my dad were really pissed. I got into a fight with both of them Friday afternoon before I reported to Great Lakes." Kirstin got really quiet and twisted her lips in thought. "Then Saturday morning… Earth," her voice trailed off and she blinked tears out her eyes again.

_She needs to talk this through…all the way through, _John thought as he scrambled to think of something to say. "How did?" he blurted out to keep her going.

He watched her bury the stem of the wine glass in the sand again. "It was a big laser weapon. It sliced a swath through the ground and ocean from the Florida panhandle to Venezuela." She turned to look over her shoulder at the gulf. "It vaporized everything in its path."

John knew where she was going with this and struggled to think of something profound to say. He had read the intelligence report from Hero's databank about the weapon that had killed over eight million people and the mission to save Earth of the future time line. Kirstin's story was the classic anguish filled drama. A family separated by some incidental event, a senseless fight, character death and a survivor with a guilt complex. He sat forward and reached for her shoulder, pulling her back into his chest. He saw the tears streaming down her face, the grief that she had buried inside all these years finally releasing itself.

"It's okay," he said into her hair, wincing at how corny it sounded. "It doesn't matter if you were fighting or not, your father and Ryan and your brother all knew that you loved them. An argument doesn't change basic feelings," he remarked quietly. He rubbed his hand over her back and let silence fall between them.

The hypnotic rhythm of the waves lapping the shoreline filled the emptiness of the night. John held Kirstin tight against his chest as she let her grief out for the first time.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

A/N Thanks to my betas Deb and ladyofthelight101. I think betwen the three of us, we found all the bloops, if not, I'm wearing the red shirt.

The low growl coming from the corner of the room made every hair on Trip's body stand on end. He felt a streak of terror splash over him and he swallowed hard to muster whatever courage he had left in the pit of his stomach. _I'm a grown man, I'm an officer in the US Navy, I was an officer in Starfleet. I've faced an enemy that was taller, meaner, and uglier. I can handle this, _he told himself. He pulled himself up into a command position and looked across the room. _I can handle T'Pol in labor. _

Trip sucked in some air and walked over to Lieutenant Bowyer who had just exited the curtained area of T'Pol's bed. "What the word Lieutenant?" Trip asked hesitantly. "How long until Junior makes his grand entrance?"

"Hmm, it's a guessing game at this point, but its looking two or maybe even three more days," Bowyer said typing in some data on the tablet.

"Are you serious? She's going to be in labor for week?" Trip questioned the tall blonde male as Bowyer turned to face him.

"Yes and no. No she's not in labor and yes, it's going to be a couple more days before she delivers," Chip replied waving his hand for Trip to follow him. He walked across the room to pull some information up on a computer. "A week is probably overkill though."

"That wasn't labor?" Trip muttered under his breath. T'Pol had collapsed in McKay's lab and was screaming at the top of her lungs when the medics had arrived. Her screams had finally settled to a menacing growl, which scared the crap out of him.

"No, that's what's called Braxton Hicks," Bowyer replied. "They're uterine contractions that have been occurring throughout her pregnancy. It's normal in every humanoid female. In the beginning the contractions are painless and hardly noticeable. Now that she is getting closer to her due date, her body is changing and is more sensitive to the sensation."

Trip stared at the illustration on the computer monitor that explained what was going on with T'Pol. "Are you sure?" he asked again. "She seemed to be in a lot of pain." It wasn't that he didn't trust the man. Trip was just _overly_ concerned with his mate and her hybrid child.

"Yes Commander," Bowyer said with a sigh. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his BDU's. Bowyer had been called back from an off-world mission to attend to T'Pol and was still dressed in his field gear. The clothing was non-descript and he looked like every other marine on the base. "I examined her myself, physically and with the tricorder. She's not even dilated," Bowyer informed Tucker calmly. "There's nothing to worry about, in fact, she's free to go."

"Go where? Back to her room?" Trip stammered suddenly feeling nervous to be alone with T'Pol in her current state.

"She could go back to her room," Bowyer agreed with him slowly. "In fact it might be a good idea if she rests for a couple of hours. But we both know that she won't stay there for long. She can report for duty tomorrow." He hesitated and after a moment of awkward silence he filled the gap. "Sir, it's not like T'Pol's going on off-world missions or flying around in a starship attacking the enemy. She's up in McKay's lab postulating the theories of the universe."

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek and mentally smacked himself in the head. _I'm over-reacting again, _he thought as he looked across the room to where T'Pol was resting. "How many babies have you delivered?" Trip blurted out before he could control himself. He cringed at the words as they tumbled out of his mouth.

Bowyer eyed Doyle carefully. "Commander, respectfully, I graduated from the University of Iowa's med school with honors and worked in the Emergency Department at Northwestern Hospital in Chicago for five years before attending Marine OCS. I served as the physician assistant to the Chief Medical Officer, a _Vulcan_ physician, on Starbase One, the Vulcan home world and NX-13, the Republic for six years. I was selected for the strike team by Captain Duvall and Commander Reed both friends of yours if I'm not mistaken _and_ I've saved your butt on at least one occasion," Bowyer ranted in a calm, clear menacing tone. "I've had plenty of experience with Human and Vulcan infants and I'm completely capable of delivering T'Pol's son, when _he_ is ready to make his appearance."

The words sizzled in the air, but Trip had no rebuttal. _I'm an idiot, _he told himself. _The guy saved my life and I get stuck blundering around in the 'stupid pit'._ "Yeah, okay," he stammered looking anywhere but at Bowyer's face. "So I should um…get her home now," Trip added heading toward the curtain area where T'Pol was resting.

Bowyer stood fast by the desk and watched the man walk away. "Expectant fathers," he muttered shaking his head.

* * *

"I guess I should spend more time in the officer's club! Look at all the gossip I'm missing out on," Sergeant Kavan said as he trudged down the dirt path behind Major Kirstin Mackenzie and Lieutenant Lucy Alvarez. The world their team was visiting today was PX1908-M3 otherwise known as the Xyrillian's home world. He wiped his brow as the sun beat down on the three Hero crewmen.

"Officer's club?" Alvarez repeated turning to look back at the African American man walking behind her. "I'd hardly call the mess hall the 602 Club in San Francisco, Kavan!" Lucy laughed.

"Agh! Please don't refer to the best bar in the world, especially when we will never get to go there again in our lifetime! Do you think there's a 602 club in this San Francisco? Hmm, what I wouldn't do for a long island ice tea from there right now," Kavan rambled pulling out his canteen. He unscrewed the lid and squirted some water into his mouth. "Water is a poor substitute."

"At least the gossip is still the same," Mackenzie grumbled pulling her own canteen from her vest. Sweat was rolling off her face, soaking her sleeveless black t-shirt and sports bra and pooling against her underwear at the small of her back. "Can it get any hotter out here? What's the deal with the planets in this galaxy? They are either freezing butt ass cold or…"

"Hot?" Kavan interrupted her. He squinted up at the unforgiving sun. "Hot is hot no matter what you call it! Where the hell is Major Jeeter anyway?"

"Talking to the natives," Alvarez hissed. She took her cap off and stuffed it into the pocket of her BDU's. She followed Mackenzie's lead and dumped some water over her head to try to cool off. "They live underground in some caves."

"Where it's much cooler I'm guessing," Kavan remarked. "One thing in the planet's favor is the climate is consistent, ya know? Not like on Earth." He followed suit with the water before shoving his water bottle back in his vest.

"Nothing wrong with a little variety," Mackenzie mumbled dumping some water down the back of her shirt. She pulled her hair out of its elastic and readjusted it on the top of her head.

"Ask Schmitt, he'd tell you from first hand knowledge," Kavan joked back at the two officers in front of him. Alvarez laughed aloud. Kirstin did not.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mackenzie asked defensively.

Alvarez and Kavan shared a questioning glance and some non-verbal conversation behind Mackenzie's back. "Come on Mac," Lucy finally answered. "We all know about Bowyer and Schmitt."

"Know what about them?" Kirstin quizzed staring her crewmates down.

"That they broke up," Kavan replied slowly. He unclipped his P-90 from his tac vest so he could readjust it.

"What?" Kirstin croaked out with a stunned expression on her face.

"They broke up weeks ago," Lucy added. "Don't try to play like you didn't know."

"I didn't," she muttered. "I just had breakfast with Chip this morning. He didn't say anything about it."

"Did you give him a chance too?" Kavan retorted.

"Huh?" Mackenzie answered. "Where are you going with that?" she asked her voice edgy.

"Look, it's no secret to anyone that your conversations these days seemed to solely center on you," Kavan retorted emphasizing 'Kirstin's' interests with quotation marks. "It's no wonder you don't know that Schmitt dumped Bowyer! It happened a month ago. How many one-sided talks have you had with your so-called friend in the past month?"

"Sergeant!" Alvarez cautioned him from the sidelines.

"No Lucy…Hold up!" Kavan replied curtly holding up his hand. The searing sun had seriously fried his brain. "We're all friends here right? We've swore to remain friends, be able to tell each other anything? Let me just make good on my library card," Kavan leaned into the circle and made some very animated gestures. "Kirstin, when the hell are you going to get your head out of your ass and start living again?"

"Excuse me?" Mackenzie stuttered lashing back from the verbal attack. "You have no idea or right to question me about anything."

"Really?" Kavan replied with a cutting passiveness in his voice. "All those one sided conversations have given me time to think about life … and I have a lot of ideas about things Mac. None of which you give a shit about apparently!" Kavan's face winced with emotion as the volume level escalated. "You aren't the only one that lost something weeks ago. There isn't a night that goes by that I don't think about my fiancé and wonder how she is dealing with my absence. Well, that is if she even knows that I'm missing yet … it wasn't like we were on a de-classified mission or anything!"

He turned and stomped away from the two women. Kirstin had a completely stunned expression on her face and didn't even know how to respond to him. Alvarez just let him go off… because he obviously needed too. Sergeant Kavan didn't give them much time to digest his blow up as he pivoted on his heel and marched right back into their faces.

"And then you!" he yelled getting right in Kirstin's grill. "You ditch us … all of us by curling up in the Colonel's bed. Telling us to integrate into his crew and lose our identity with the rest of the US Military! So much for even trying to find a way to get us back home!"

"You're out of line Sergeant!" Kirstin screamed into his face.

"Oh, when the truth hurts you cower behind rank and protocol?" Kavan taunted her. "So much for that _I used to be one of you _speech you gave us when we were assigned to your team!! What happened to the Hero crew having each other's back and protecting what little assets we have left? Huh! How easy was it to forget about the rest of us once you were all cozy under Sheppard's sheets?"

"You sonuvabitch!" Kirstin screamed and slapped him across the face. "Shut the frick up! You don't have a clue the decisions I had to make. I kept us alive! Made sure we had a safe haven. I've run every possible scenario to try to get us back. T'Pol and I both have … there isn't a god-damn way to do it!" Kirstin's tone was riddled with anger as she lunged into his face. "But then again how the frick would you know … you have no clue about science or mechanics do you Kavan! All you know what to do is fight and kill!"

"I think I know a little more than that Major!" he continued to rant. He threw his P-90 on the ground and shoved Mackenzie back a couple of feet. "Who was on weapons saving your ass when you navigated us right into the black hole? Whose friggen fault is it that we're stuck here anyway! What did you do to stop it? Oh wait!" Kavan slapped himself on his head. "How could you have stopped it? You don't know a god damn thing about flying the ship! When our helmsman was unconscious on the deck, where were you?"

"I tried to gain control of the ship! There wasn't anything I could do!" Kirstin growled in a low angry voice. The scar on her cheek stood out red and hot against her pale skin.

"It's no secret that you couldn't fly the ship to save your life Mackenzie! And since it's standard protocol for all bridge officers and crew to have basic piloting skills in case of an emergency it makes me wonder if you were sleeping with Commander Reed as well! You can be the exception to the rule in any command when you suck enough dicks to make up for your inadequacies!"

Kirstin couldn't take it anymore. His words cut through her like a knife and her only response was to lash out. She tackled the marine sergeant and wrestled him to the ground. Strength wise it was an even fight, Kavan was taller and more muscular than Mackenzie, but she was quicker and more flexible. The two marines created their own dust storm as they rolled through the dirt, biting, swatting and punching each other while verbally and physically unleashing the stress locked inside their souls. Alvarez knew better than to stop her two friends as she stood witness to the comic strip style fight. Instead, Alvarez quietly stepped away and taking up a perimeter defensive position.

Before long Mackenzie got the upper hand on Kavan and shoved him face first into the dirt. "Stand down Sergeant," she growled tersely, clearly out of breath from their tussle.

"I don't take orders from you Major," Kavan spat out as he squirmed to get out of her hold. "My orders come directly from Colonel Sheppard." He finally broke free from her grasp and flipped her unto the ground on her back. He pinned her hands above her head and jammed a knee into her gut.

"If I'm not mistaken, Major Jeeter is in charge of this mission Sergeant," Mac gasped as she struggled under his bulk.

"I have one directive on this mission Major and it's to cover your six," Kavan informed her rolling off her body.

"And you were given that directive by the same Colonel Sheppard that I'm all cozy with under the sheets?" Mackenzie asked pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Yes ma'm," he replied.

"I can take care of myself sergeant," she said rolling over on her knees. "I don't need you patronizing over my safety. You're dismissed." She ran her hand over her lip and saw blood on her fingers.

"You can dismiss me all you want, but my orders stand," Kavan retorted crawling to his feet. "You fight like a sissy anyway!" Kavan opened his mouth and rolled his eyes. "Ha! Now I know what the problem is with you!"

"I don't have a frickin' problem jagoff!" Mackenzie snapped pushing the loose hair off her neck.

"Yeah you do," he laughed whole heartedly. "If you were a guy I'd say you're pussy whipped, but since you're a chick … let's just say you're _dick whipped._" He nodded arrogantly and continued to laugh. "Yep, that's it … now that you have a steady man in your life, you've gotten all helpless and soft!"

"I am not soft!" Kirstin screeched stepping forward and shoving Kavan back a couple of steps. He continued to laugh in her face which just made her all the more furious and ignited her rage. She was ready to go to blows with him again when she heard the team leader calling out from behind.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jeeter asked caustically as he quickly walked up and stepped between them.

"Nothing sir," Kavan retorted, his eyes locked firmly on Mackenzie's face.

"Major?" Jeeter asked Kirstin as he grabbed her chin and pulled it toward him. "You're bleeding."

"I tripped," she said pulling her head back from his hand. "It's nothing, sir."

Jeeter trailed his gaze from Mackenzie to Kavan. Something occurred between the two of them and it was a lot more than just a harmless stumble in the park. Kavan had scratches and a few welts on his face and was definitely going to wake up with a shiner tomorrow. Mackenzie had scratches on her face and neck. Her lip was split open and blood was dripping down her chin. "Lieutenant?" Jeeter called to Alvarez who was walking toward them from several feet away.

"Sir?" she replied taking her walk to a quick jog.

"What happened here?" Jeeter asked his eyes settling on Mackenzie.

"Ah, I wouldn't know sir," she chuckling nervously. "I was peeing in the weeds," she said shrugging her shoulders sheepishly and gave Jeeter an innocent look.

"All of you are on report," Jeeter replied tersely getting royally pissed that no one was owning up to whatever had occurred. "Let's double time it back to the gate," he growled as he turned to head the opposite direction. He took one step and impacted dead on with a wraith stunner blast.

"Take cover!" Mackenzie screamed as Jeeter crumpled to the ground next to her. She held the trigger on her P-90 spraying the air in front of the team with bullets and grabbed Jeeter by the back of the vest pulling him toward the tree line.

* * *

From an outsider's advantage, AG-1 was quietly enjoying their dinner. Colonel Sheppard and Ronon were stabbing their steaks with exuberance and enjoying every bite of the expertly cooked meat. Teyla seemed consumed with her plate of vegetables and pasta and Rodney … well he was staring at the three in complete disgust.

"Hmm that's good," John muttered cutting another strip and shoving it into his mouth.

"Really?" Rodney replied his voice laced with sarcasm. "I couldn't tell by the way you've been gulping it down."

"I'm hungry!" Sheppard exclaimed. "Spend any time with a bunch of space nomads and you start to appreciate what you have, especially in the way of food," he said picking up his water glass. "You…you would have starved there," he added pointing at Ronon.

"It's difficult to image spending ones entire life on a ship," Teyla commented.

"If it was me I'd go crazy," Ronon agreed.

"What about the Hero crew? They've spent most of their time in space and they seem normal," Rodney remarked. He pointed at Sheppard's steak and snapped his fingers. "If it wasn't for them, you wouldn't be eating that slab of meat right now."

"Yes and for that I'm grateful," John said nodding his head. He cut another strip of the meat and held it up with his fork. "This is the best piece of re-sequenced protein I've ever had." He popped the meat in his mouth and chewed in silence for a few seconds. "I'm still not certain why they let me go."

"Well you did offer them an alliance," Teyla reasoned. "That has to be worth something."

"Or they figured out you'd be more trouble than your worth," Ronon growled biting at his steak that was hanging off his fork.

"That's a possibility," Sheppard replied pointing his knife at Ronon.

"I don't think that is it … there's something you're not telling us," Rodney said suspiciously. "She was hot wasn't she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," John replied circumventing the comment.

"Ah ha! I knew it!" Rodney exclaimed loudly. "That is so typical of you. So much for this so-called committed relationship you're in with Major Mackenzie!" Rodney retorted indignantly.

"What does my relationship with Kirstin have to do with anything?" John said leaning into the table. "She threatened to kill me several times, Rodney! It wasn't like we were hanging out in the spa together."

"Right, whatever," Rodney remarked waving his hand around in the air. "All I know is every time I get taken captive it's the Wraith. Just once I'd like to be captured by the hot chick."

"Rodney, that is really … sick," Teyla commented rolling her eyes.

"Delusional," Ronon added.

"Colonel Sheppard please report to the control room immediately!' bellowed the intercom on the intercity frequency.

"Frick!" Sheppard growled pushing back from the table. "That can't be good."

* * *

"Major!" Lieutenant Alvarez called to Mackenzie as she stood above her nudging Kirstin's side with her foot. "You awake?"

"I guess," Mackenzie muttered as she eyes focused on the voice.

"I thought the Xyrillian's in our time line were friendly humanoids," Alvarez moaned as she leaned against the wall of the cell she shared with Major Mackenzie.

"Huh," Mackenzie grunted from the floor. Kirstin blinked her eyes several times trying to piece the events of the past few hours together. "Where are we?" she hoarsely whispered swallowing hard against the dryness of her mouth.

"The Xyrillian's are detaining us," Alvarez replied pacing the small space for the fifteenth time.

"Why?" Kirstin asked pushing herself up on her elbows and taking a look around herself.

"I dunno exactly," Lucy replied. "Something about a temple that we weren't supposed to be in or something, I couldn't quite make it all out when they were dragging me here by my hair."

Mackenzie closed one eye as she looked at the floor and thought about it for a moment. _Stunner blasts, wraith, running, falling, _all came flooding back to her. "Where's Major Jeeter?" she asked. A quick memory of dragging him through the brush flashed into her mind.

"Well, that's the million dollar mystery," Lucy said sarcastically crossing her arms at her chest. "The locals took him somewhere."

"What about Schwartz and Kavan?"

"Dead."

"Dead?" Kirstin repeated in shock. She pushed herself into a sitting position. "How?"

"I saw those…goalie things….eating them," Alvarez said dejectedly.

"Are you sure? I thought we were immune from the Wraith," Mackenzie asked and stated in the same breath. "At least … Kavan should have been immune."

"Yeah, well. I guess they didn't get the memo," Alvarez shrugged her shoulders. "I shot them in the head."

"You shot who in the head?"

"The goalies," Alvarez growled. "Are you even listening to me?" she snapped looking down at the Major still sitting on the floor.

Kirstin stared at her teammate quizzically. "How long have we been trapped in here?"

Alvarez stared at her watch and rolled her eyes. "Four hours."

_Four hours? _Kirstin repeated silently. "We're overdue for check in," she muttered. _That's the only thing going for us. _

* * *

"T'Pol sit down," Trip said as he watched her pace around the room. She had taken her obligatory nap as directed by Lieutenant Bowyer. Trip had walked her to the mess hall for dinner and even out on the pier afterward. This pacing around their quarters was making him dizzy.

"I can not," she muttered holding her hand in the small of her back. "The baby is coming."

"The baby is not coming," Trip remarked walking to her side. "Lieutenant Bowyer said you're not even dilated. It's going to be a couple of more days. Come on, sit down," he tried to comfort her as he herded her toward the couch.

"I can't take a couple of more days, T'hy'la," T'Pol said tersely. What little emotion was behind the words was hardly warm and comforting.

"Well," Trip chuckled trying to make light of the situation. "You're going to have to since it looks like Junior is on his own time table."

"It is illogical that this child can have control over his entrance," T'Pol commented as she settled down on the couch.

"Well, you _are_ talking about Jonathan Archer's son," Trip joked as he settled next to her and coaxed her gently down on her side. "He was always the outspoken one who followed his gut," he said. As soon as T'Pol was settled he began to massage her upper back and shoulders. "I have a suspicion that junior is going to be one opinionated child."

"Considering his life inside my womb, I'd have to agree," she commented relaxing into the warmth of his touch.

"Yep," Trip muttered feeling her muscles loosen under his fingertips. "We're going to have our hands full." He leaned his head back on the couch and smiled smugly.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard ran his hand through his hair and exhaled hard. He paced around Colonel Carter's office and flexed his hands into fists at his side. _This is not happening again, _he thought as he gritted his teeth and held back the anger he was feeling. Two men lost at the hands of the enemy and two detained for unknown reasons. It wasn't just any two that were captured either; it was two of the hottest females on the base, one that he personally had planned on seducing tonight when she got home. He chided himself silently for letting his heart get in the way of his professional duty. _Why Kirstin? Why does this crap keep happening to her? _He ran his hand over the back of his neck and sighed. _Jesus__ John! She's a marine and right now I'm her commanding officer … not her boyfriend, _he reminded himself sternly.

Despite everything Jeeter knew for fact or whatever lies their so-called allies filled his brain with, none of it made any sense to Sheppard. There hadn't been a wraith attack on PX1908-M3 in over twenty years. Atlantis and the Xyrillian's had an amicable relationship for the past four years. _What the hell did Mac and Alvarez get themselves into that is so bad that the Xyrillian's won't release them? _

"That's all they said?" John blurted, breaking the uncomfortable silence that filled the room. "Just that they were being detained? For how long?"

Jeeter stood at attention near Carter's desk. He could feel the eyes of his commanding officer's boring a hole right through him. "I don't know sir," he croaked out. "They weren't very talkative about it."

"Why did they let you go?" Ronon asked walking in front of the major. He stopped in front of the major and crossed his arms at his chest.

"The Xyrillian leader, Rygel, dispatched me to bring Colonel Sheppard to the planet," Jeeter said plainly finally growing some balls again. "I would have gotten back sooner, but my hike to the gate was hampered by Wraith."

"Real wraith or Michael wraith?" Sheppard asked stepping closer to Jeeter.

"Real wraith."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sheppard muttered under his breath. There were a hundred questions that he wanted to ask, but now was not the time for any of them. "McKay, Teyla, gear up and meet me in the jumper bay," Sheppard squawked to his team over the radio. "Major report to the infirmary and get checked out," Sheppard said turning to head out the back door of the office.

"Sir, I'd like to go with you," Jeeter said stopping Sheppard dead in his tracks. "It's my team," he added locking eyes with Sheppard.

The look spoke volumes between the two and garnered a nod from Sheppard without any verbal acknowledgement. Just as John was responsible for all the teams, Jeeter was responsible for his own. John had personally assigned Sergeant Kavan to watch out for Mackenzie and now he was dead at the hands of the Wraith. John blinked to clear his head. Kavan knew what he was getting into whether it was the military here or in the twenty second century. John just had to make sure that he didn't lose another person on this seemingly friendly mission.

* * *

"This stuff tastes like cardboard," Alvarez grumbled as she stirred the thick paste around in the wooden bowl.

"Like you would know what cardboard tastes like?" Kirstin joked with her. "You better keep eating Lieutenant," Mackenzie said as she watched her teammate. "You don't know when our next meal is coming."

"Is that an order?" Alvarez asked.

"Do I need to make it one?" Kirstin said sticking a spoonful of the paste in her mouth and nearly gagging on the taste and consistency. "At least make an attempt," she added trying hard to swallow and keep it down.

"As if we're going to be here that long," Lucy remarked staring up at the ceiling. "I'm waiting for that guy you're banging to come riding up on his white horse."

"Excuse me?" Kirstin replied taking a much smaller mouthful of the paste. _Not this again, _she thought as she mentally prepared for another battle with a teammate.

"You heard me," Lucy replied.

"I'm not banging him," Kirstin said frankly. She set the bowl down and brought her knees up to her chest.

"Right, banging, dating whatever it is you're calling it these days," Alvarez said waving her hand around.

"We're dating…but we haven't slept together," Kirstin explained not really sure why she thought she need to do that. "At least not literally."

"Are you serious?" Alvarez asked completely perplexed. "Never? You're lying! You two are always kissy-huggy."

"Kissy huggy?" Mackenzie scowled. "That's hardly how I would describe John Sheppard."

"Well, kissy huggy on your terms is that dreamy far off look in your eyes when the two of you get within thirty feet of each other," Alvarez said over-explaining. "You've honestly never let him hit it?"

"We've been intimate," Kirstin said shrugging her shoulders. "But John has never scored a homerun."

"Ever?"

"No," Kirstin replied. "At least not in my twat."

"What?" Lucy coughed making a face. "You let him butt fuck you? Ewwee."

"There's nothing ewwee about it," Mac remarked frankly. "It's erotic and …"

"Gross!" Lucy yelped shuddering at the thought of it. "Why would you? I don't get it," she muttered trying to shake the imaginary. "It's an exit, not an entrance."

"I ah…" Mac shrugged her shoulders and tried to find the words to explain her reasons. "I wanted to be a virgin on my wedding night."

A confused expression rippled across Alvarez's face. "You were ra….I thought you told me that you were attacked on Earth," she questioned looking over at her friend.

"I was … after that I decided to keep myself _in that way_ only for my husband," Mackenzie explained. "I mean, I know you can't grow it back … but I could keep it sacred, I guess." She looked away and blinked tears out of her eyes.

"So you've never … not even with your fiancé?"

"Nope, he respected my decision and he taught me to like it up the other way," Kirstin said. "Anyway … John is okay with it. He doesn't push the issue."

"That's so weird," Lucy blurted out. "I mean … I guess, it's cool, but… shit, If I was dating the hottest guy on the base and I wasn't giving all of myself to him, I'd be worried that he is stepping out on me," Lucy replied shaking her head. "He is the biggest flirt! I've heard the rumors … every time AG-1 goes through the gate the local women are swooning all over him!"

"John knows where he lays his head at night," Kirstin said quickly getting irritated with the conversation. "Can we just drop it?" she said standing up. Kirstin ran her hand over the back of her neck and felt the heat radiating from it.

"Okay," Lucy said slowly watching her friend begin to fidget. "Are you um… going to stay on Atlantis?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Kirstin replied with an annoyed tone. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, T'Pol's leaving."

"She's going have a baby in a couple of days," Mac answered a little loud. "In case you haven't noticed, Atlantis isn't exactly the best place to raise a kid." She rubbed her hand over her neck and shoulder, noticing that the heat was slowly turning into a burn.

"I just thought that you would…." Lucy said trying to explain herself.

"Go back to Earth and live with Commander Doyle like one big happy family?' Kirstin smarted off. "Not likely, Atlantis is my home now. I have the best of everything here. I get to do research, go on off-world missions and teach the Athosian kids about science. I can visit Earth whenever I want," Kirstin said with a dreamy smile on her face. "And keep a friendly distance from my big brother Trip," she added sarcastically.

"Considering that none of us have family anymore, I'd like someone to be my big brother," Lucy said dropping her head against her arms. "Do you think Kavan was right?"

"About what?" Kirstin asked slumping on her butt against the wall. The coolness of the stone was little comfort to the burn that was starting to take over her body.

"That Starfleet didn't tell our families that we were missing," Lucy remarked ruefully.

"I'm sure the families were all informed," Mackenzie tried to assure her.

"How do you know?" Alvarez asked. "Commander Reed was the only one with the mission briefing."

"Commander Reed got his orders from somewhere like Starfleet Intelligence," Kirstin countered. "It's not like he just swiped Hero out of the hanger."

"What if something happened to the person who gave him the orders?" Alvarez squawked her voice laced with stress and excitement.

"Hey! Get a hold of yourself!" Mackenzie yelled at Alvarez when she realized she was practically hyperventilating. She crawled over to her teammate and placed her hands firmly on Alvarez's arms. "There are procedures in place to make sure that doesn't happen. Some lowly Ensign was sitting at Starfleet Command waiting for Hero to check in on Alpha Centuria. When we didn't return, that person sent a confidential 'eyes-only' communiqué to his commanding officer which launched an investigation into our disappearance." Kirstin ran her hands over Lucy's arms. "Our families were notified, I can guarantee you that."

"But they didn't send anyone to try to find us," Alvarez said in a whisper.

"We don't know that …I'm sure they got intel from the Nausicaan's," Kirstin said sitting back on her heels. She looked Alvarez in the eye and realized she was crying. "They probably wouldn't send anyone to cross the neutral zone to look for us … but I'm sure they sent feelers out."

"The Romulan's probably told everybody that they blew us up," Lucy whispered wiping the wetness from her face. "Kirstin, I'm …I'm leaving Atlantis."

"What?' Mackenzie gasped caught completely off guard. "Why?"

"It's home for you … but it's not for me. I spent the last five years in space, I miss it," Lucy replied. "Colonel Carter recommended me for a position on Daedalus a couple of weeks ago and I got it," she said. "I was going to tell you when we got back," she added looking anywhere but Kirstin's eyes.

Kirstin sat back against the wall and stared blindly at the floor. Lucy could say she was going to tell her all she wanted, but Kirstin knew the truth. She was too out of touch with her crew. She didn't know a thing about Chip's break-up and didn't understand that Kavan was nearing a break-down. She was too consumed with her issues, her life, and her problems and blocked out her team. Sure she had conversations with them all the time, but in retrospect they weren't very informative. Jeeter, Lorne and even McKay knew more of what was going on with her team that she did. She felt her face flush and the burn settle in her cheeks. She ran her hand over the back of her neck and worked the stiff muscles on her shoulders. Kirstin closed her eyes and silently berated herself for losing her perspective.

* * *

Chip Bowyer crawled out of his bed and walked slowly into the bathroom in his quarters. He splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth. _New parent syndrome, _he thought as he walked out of the head and grabbed a pair of BDU's and a t-shirt from the bureau. "This is the part of the doctor life I miss," he muttered under his breath as he quickly dressed and put on his boots. "Of course, then there's always the Dr. McKay factor," he added just before he walked out of the room.

As Bowyer entered the Infirmary he scanned the room. Dr. Narula was working on a marine on one of the triage beds on the side of the room. A few medical technicians bustled about the patients on the beds. Just like a hospital, there was always someone sleeping in the _short term care_ bay. _No different than a starship, _Chip reminded himself. On a starship people went to sickbay all the time. Some had legitimate complaints, some just had over-active imaginations. The only real difference between the sick bay on starship and the infirmary on Atlantis was the overnight stay …. _And the pregnant crewman, _he added mentally.

"Commander," Chip greeted Commander Doyle as he approached T'Pol's bed.

"I tried to talk her out of it Doc," Trip apologized quickly. "But she was insistent that junior was coming."

Bowyer smiled pleasantly at Doyle, selfishly laughing inside that someone Starfleet was acknowledging that he was a doctor. Starfleet command never did. Despite that he worked as a doctor in the private sector for years before joining up, he didn't meet their standards. He was only a medic in their eyes, but not on Atlantis or in this century. _That's why I'm staying here, _Chip reminded himself. _I can be a soldier and a doctor, which is why I joined up in the first place. _

"It's okay Commander," Bowyer finally said aloud as he ran the tricorder over T'Pol's body. "T'Pol how are you feeling?" he asked her as he watched the results.

"The baby is coming," the Vulcan female nearly growled from the bed.

Bowyer nodded and said nothing. He watched as a med tech placed a cool compress on T'Pol's head and then looked over at the fetal monitor that was capturing the baby's heartbeat. "Well, you're starting to dilate, but you're still a couple of days away from delivering," he said in a friendly enough voice.

"See T'Pol, I told you," Trip added from the side of the bed.

"You can't be serious," T'Pol panted as she lay on the bed. "I can't take much more of this."

"You're barely in labor," Chip chuckled. He turned the tricorder for her to see. "T'Pol you're not really having contractions."

"Why do I feel so uncomfortable then?" she asked staring at the tricorder results.

"I suspect some of it's because the baby is moving into position," Bowyer replied taking the tricorder back from her.

"And the rest of it?" Trip prompted.

"Psych-somatic," Bowyer said flatly.

"You think I'm crazy?" T'Pol said pushing herself up on the bed.

"Not literally, but you are letting you're imagination get the best of you," Chip said helping her sit up on the bed. "You have to let nature take its course T'Pol."

"I don't know if I have the patience for that," T'Pol answered.

"Can't you do anything for her doc?" Trip asked with a hopeful twinge in his voice.

"We'll just continue to monitor until it's time," Bowyer replied. "You need to rest T'Pol. Go home and get some sleep tonight. Go back to work tomorrow. Check in with me mid day," he said flatly. "When you have a contraction, employ some of that meditation technique of yours to work through it. Trust me, you'll know when it's the real thing."

"Yes Lieutenant," T'Pol muttered sliding off the gurney with Bowyer's assistance.

Bowyer looked over at Tucker. "And Commander, you need to stop acting like a worry-wart. It's a baby. They are born everyday."

"Not hybrid ones," Tucker rebutted.

"Comments like that only feed into her fears that something is going to go wrong," Bowyer told him sternly. "We are in the process of delivering a baby, not a science project."

"Okay," Trip said slowly feeling the sting of his words.

Bowyer looked at the couple standing in front of him and checked his watch. "So, I'll expect you tomorrow, no earlier than 1300 hours."

"Thanks doc," Trip muttered as he led T'Pol out of the room.

"Ah, I love private practice," Bowyer muttered walking toward the bank of computers to log his chart notes.

* * *

"Lucy? Are you awake?" Kirstin asked the sleeping form of her teammate.

"I could be," the Hispanic woman answered rolling flat on her back. "The floor is as hard as a rock, because it is a rock ... so it's not like I'm really sleeping. Why?" she asked peering through the darkness at the Major.

"What happened to me today?" Kirstin gasped. She was kneeling on the dirt floor bracing her hand against the wall as her body fought another battle of the unknown. The burn that plagued her for the past few hours had intensified to the point that any friction on her skin or hair sent her into hysterics.

"Before or after you and Kavan kicked the crap out of each other?" Lucy tried to clarify.

"After," Kirstin panted. "After the Wraith attacked, I pulled Jeeter through the tree line and then climbed down into that cavern," Kirstin gritted her teeth to stop from moaning, not wanting to alert Lucy that anything was wrong with her. "Then what?"

"I went back to help Kavan and Schwartz fight off the Wraith. When I came back, you were unconscious and lit up by some purplish spotlight thing," Alvarez explained. The room fell silent and all Alvarez could hear was the labored breathing of her teammate. "Mac are you okay?"

"No," Mackenzie moaned quietly. "My body is on fire. It feels like its burning from the inside out," she replied holding her left hand over her head. "Everything is bothering me. My clothes, my hair, the mat, the wall ….ugh," she cried pushing off from the wall into a standing position.

"Maybe you're having an allergic reaction from the food?" Alvarez surmised.

"No it started happening before then," Mac recounted.

"Can you breathe? You're wheezing," Lucy asked scrambling to her feet.

"I'm just panting to make the feeling go away," Kirstin growled.

"Is it working?"

"No."

"I'm calling for the guard," Lucy whispered walking over to the make-shift door and pounding on it. "Help! I need help down here! My friend is sick!"

"Don't! Shut up!" Kirstin yelled running over to Alvarez's side. She put her hand over Lucy's mouth roughly. "I don't want them down here. I'm fine."

Alvarez batted her hand away and stared at her teammate. "Kirstin, you're not fine…."

"I'm fine!" Mackenzie interrupted loudly. "Just forget I said anything. Just leave me alone." She shoved Alvarez into the wall and stormed to the other side of the room

"You need medical assistance," Alvarez said recovering from the push. She recognized the aggression that Mackenzie was displaying and knew better than to fight back against the woman.

"I don't need anything."

"You're having a panic attack or allergic reaction Major!" Alvarez said sharply. "Maybe the Xyrillian's can help you."

"They aren't going to help us Lieutenant," Kirstin growled backing into the far wall.

"They're our allies….." Alvarez replied tersely just as Mackenzie cut her off.

"And they are holding us in a cell! If we were truly _friends _we wouldn't be held in this cell like caged animals. If we were truly _friends _they would have had our backs when the Wraith attacked and Schwartz and Kavan wouldn't be dead!! So, no Lieutenant, they are not going to help us and you will not call for help! That's an order!" Mackenzie's word echoed off the sides of the wall and silence draped across the room like a heavy veil.

* * *

"What's up," Ronon asked as he walked into the control room. Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard and Major Jeeter were staring at the plasma monitor just at the top of the stairs.

"Bad news," Jeeter replied pointing at the screen. "There a hive ship in orbit above the planet."

"And we just sent a UAV through the gate," Carter added. "What little telemetry it transmitted showed the surface covered with Wraith."

"So, we're not going?" Ronon half asked half stated looking at the three officers.

"Not right now," Sheppard sighed leaning against a console. "It's too risky."

"And no matter what Major Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alvarez did," Carter said slowly to make her point. "Showing some good will by not alerting the Wraith to the caves will go along way to negotiating their release." Sam shot a knowing glare in Sheppard's and Jeeter's direction.

"Yes ma'm," Jeeter retorted making it clear with the rolling of his eyes that he didn't like her decision. Neither did Sheppard for that matter, but he wasn't as obvious about it.

"Major, why don't you get some rest," Sheppard said pushing off from the console. "I'll be in touch when we're ready to move out." John watched Jeeter pivot on his heel wordlessly and head down the stairs. "He's pissed."

"Really? I couldn't tell," Ronon replied with a smirk on his face. "He's feeling responsible."

"He was the first one to go down and couldn't do anything to help his team," Carter remarked. "Can't tell you how many times I've been there."

"We all have," John looked over at her solemnly. "It doesn't change anything though."

* * *

"I can't believe you actually want to stay in this god-forsaken galaxy and do this everyday!" Lieutenant Alvarez blurted out after the two women sat in silence for well over two hours. The stress of their captivity was starting to wear on both of them and every conversation escalated quickly into loud bickering.

"Like flying around in that glorified taxi service is any better?" Mackenzie retorted through the darkness of the cell.

"It's better than getting chased by monsters and locked up for dumb-ass reasons," Alvarez answered curtly.

"There are monsters in every universe," Mackenzie said quietly. "Reptilians, Romulans, Iconians, Wraith …. Even on Earth there are monsters. Men that think they can brutalize women and children for their own perverted pleasures. There's no escaping them."

"Thanks for cheering me up," Alvarez muttered gruffly. "Let me just shove an ice pick through my eye ball now."

"I was trying to make the point…"

"I get it!" Alvarez yelled across the small space. "You do realize that nearly time AG-1 goes through the gate, bad guys try to kick their ass?"

"Just a few hours ago you said that every time they went through the gate the local women try to sleep with the team lead," Kirstin replied. "Which is it?"

"Honestly? It's both," Alvarez commented. "At least that's what the rumor is."

"And how the hell would they know?" Kirstin asked. "Who started those rumors anyway?"

"Jeeter told me that his team has had to save AG-1's ass a couple of times."

"Jeeter told you that?" Mackenzie laughed. "Jeeter? The same guy that was held hostage by the kids for an entire day?"

"It wasn't just Jeeter on that mission," Alvarez replied defensively.

"Oh yeah," Mackenzie chuckled. "Tell me Lieutenant, exactly how does a team of four armed with stunners and P-90's get captured by a bunch of ten year olds with arrows?"

"Can we just drop it?" Alvarez shouted curtly.

"You brought it up," Mackenzie reminded her getting the last word it. "Fine, whatever. I still can't believe that you actually want to work on the Daedalus. You honestly think you're going to be challenged by that?"

"It's space travel, how can it not be exciting?"

"Space in this universe is traveling around at hyper-speed to and from the destination … it's not stopping to smell the roses," Mackenzie explained, loudly. "Boring."

"That only happens between the Milky Way and Pegasus galaxy," Alvarez retorted.

"Yeah and that is the only mission that Daedalus flies!"

"How would you know?"

"That's the rumor," Mackenzie replied sarcastically.

"You know what?" Alvarez growled from her side of the room. "Just shut the hell up!"

"Excuse me?" Mackenzie stuttered. "You're out of line Lieutenant."

"So what! You don't have any power to do anything about it because Colonel Carter thinks you're a freak! I'm surprised they even let you carry a gun! You can't put me on report or do a god damn thing about my insubordination!" Alvarez screamed standing up on her side of the room. "Those oak leaves on your collar are a joke! You were only a Captain for a year before you were so conveniently promoted … So tell me _Major_ Mackenzie … Who the hell did you did you butt fuck to get them?"

Kirstin felt herself become unglued. The burning sensation and the panic attack she had been fighting the past few hours surged through her veins like poison. She lunged across the room at her teammate and for the second time in twenty-four hours Kirstin fought for her honor against a member of her team … her family.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry this was delayed. RL had the nerve to get in the way!! Thanks to my betas ladyofthenight101 and Deb for their input.

Chapter 13

He spied her in the corridor in front of him. She was hard to miss. From a distance, her graceful stride gave her away. Ronon jogged the last few steps to catch up with her.

"Hey," he called to her. She stopped and turned toward him.

"Ronon," she replied watching him as he approached.

"Where you off too?" he asked eyeing her.

"To the mess hall for a cup of tea and then to the lab," T'Pol answered as she turned to walk again. She clutched her hand to the small of her back.

"The lab?" he questioned walking with her down the corridor. "Someone told me you were in labor."

"It will be several more days before the child is born," T'Pol replied. She stopped walking and sucked in some air as she felt a twinge in her back.

"Ah, he's stubborn just like his mother," Ronon commented as he put his hand against the small of her back. He pushed against the pressure point as the point of her pain and smiled as she relaxed. It was so easy for him to please her.

"I am not stubborn," T'Pol countered exhaling slowly.

"Really?" Ronon chuckled. "Have you patched things up with Commander Doyle?" He crossed his arms at his chest and waited patiently for her answer.

"We've talked," T'Pol replied looking anywhere but in his eyes.

"And?"

"He is eager to take the role of father in my child's life," she added looking at the floor.

Ronon leaned his arm against the wall and reached down to pull her chin up to meet his eyes. "What about your personal relationship?" he asked quietly looking directly at her.

"I've agreed to live with him on Earth. I'll be moving there after the child is born," T'Pol said holding his gaze.

"That doesn't answer my question," Ronon chided her. "Have you told him how you feel?"

"In a matter of speaking," T'Pol replied pulling her chin out of his hand. "He wants to get married."

"I hope you told him yes," Ronon remarked knowing she had said no.

"That is work in progress," T'Pol concluded.

"Hmmph," Ronon chuckled. "And you think you're not stubborn?" He brushed his hand over the tip of her ear. "I will miss you when you are gone."

"It will be a couple more days before I leave," she replied looking up at him.

"Then I will…" Ronon began to say just as Sheppard's voice blasted him over the earwig. He pushed back from the wall as he answered his team lead's call. "Ronon here."

"The cab's out front," Sheppard's voice crackled over the airwaves. "Were you waiting for a special invitation?"

Ronon arched his brow and chuckled. "I'm on my way," Ronon replied keying the talk button on the earpiece. "I'll talk to you later," he said to T'Pol as he turned to run down the hall.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard led the team through the winding trail of underground tunnels on the Xyrillian home world. He tuned out McKay's grumblings and Jeeter's caustic remarks as he concentrated on his slick speech to get Kirstin and Alvarez out of their predicament. Jeeter's team, AG-4, was getting more like AG-1 everyday. The only difference was Sheppard's team was usually the target of bad people trying to kill them. Jeeter's habit was being detained for some political misunderstanding.

Sheppard saw the village leader, Rygel, heading toward him as they rounded a corner. He was an older man, balding and fat, which always surprised Sheppard considering their society was always on the run from the Wraith. When he and Teyla first forged the alliance with the Xyrillian's, the population barely had any food and was on the verge of starvation. "Rygel," he called out bowing his head in respect.

"Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, Dr. McKay," the man replied acknowledging the three that were at the front of the pack. "It is pleasurable to greet you." The pudgy man spread his hands open and plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Well, we would have come sooner, but I decided to wait until the wraith ship bugged out," John replied casually.

"My village appreciates your restraint," Rygel commented. "It is unfortunate that all of your people do not subscribe to the same behavior." Rygel sneered in Major Jeeter's direction.

"Yeah, well, let's talk about that," Sheppard replied resting his hands on the top of his P-90. "I'm a little fuzzy on what exactly happened to cause this…_misunderstanding_."

"Major Jeeter did not inform you?" Rygel questioned with an icy tone to his voice.

"Inform him of what?" Jeeter blurted out from behind Sheppard. "It's not like you told me a damn thing before you released me!"

"I would think it would be obvious Major," Rygel remarked loudly. "You lured the Wraith to our doorstep and desecrated one of our most sacred temples."

"We did not lure the Wraith to your doo…" Jeeter refuted.

"Let's take this one step at a time," Sheppard interrupted Jeeter holding up his hand. He spoke with a low even tone, which was a signal to the team that he was getting royally pissed. "Rygel, in the three and a half years that we've been friendly, have we ever once brought the Wraith here?"

"No," Rygel answered. "However, the wraith showed up at nearly the same time as Major Jeeter's team."

"Coincidence!" McKay sputtered from the sidelines. "What were you doing before AG-4 arrived to attract their attention?"

Rygel's jaw dropped to the floor. "You believe we were responsible for brining them here?"

"Maybe you unintentionally caught their eye," Sheppard said coolly. "There is a Wraith planet less than ten light yer….one planet over from here," John stammered trying to tone down the techno-babble to common terms. "Were you doing something that …" he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I dunno know … gave away your location?"

Rygel adjusted the weight on his feet and stared at the wall behind Sheppard's head. "We had just completed an orb ceremony."

"An orb ceremony?" Teyla questioned.

"What does that entail exactly?" Rodney asked resting his hands on his hips.

"It is the ceremony for purity. The time when our people are chosen for bonding," Rygel explained. "It is held in the temple. The same temple your team desecrated."

"Yes and let's get back to that," Jeeter growled. "How exactly was it desecrated?"

"Your intrusion was unwarranted. The soldier's visit to the orb defiled the sanctuary," Rygel replied tersely.

"The soldier?" McKay repeated zeroing in on the word. "Only one soldier visited the orb?"

"One soldier," Rygel confirmed.

"Yet you detained both of them," McKay pointed out.

"When the guards entered the room, the dark haired female was standing next to the other," the village leader explained. "They were both in the orb's path."

"So you detained them and let Major Jeeter go," McKay half asked half stated.

"The major was unconscious," Rygel answered. "It was clear he had no involvement in the transgression."

"Where are Major Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alvarez?" Sheppard asked, his voice still hanging onto his _pissed off_ tone.

"We have not harmed either of your officers," Rygel said skirting the question.

"That's nice to know, but not what Colonel Sheppard asked," McKay asked quickly sensing a set up.

"They are in a holding cell," Rygel answered slowly. "Their bodies having begun to display the characteristics of the light."

"The what?" Sheppard asked with a confused expression on his face.

"During the ceremony, the orb bathes participants and determines their willingness for bonding," Rygel explained. "Only those that display the characteristics of the light are allowed to complete the ceremony."

"The ceremony of purity," McKay muttered.

Rygel's words and McKay's mutterings hit a chord with Sheppard and he didn't like the implications. "Did you say the ceremony determines when your people are ready for bonding?"

"Yes."

"How?" Sheppard questioned. He felt his spidey-sense go into alert mode and slid his hand down the barrel of the P-90 until it settled in the grip.

"The participant is bathed by the path of the orb," Rygel said.

"Bathed?" Teyla repeated with a perplexed tone in her voice. "As in scanned?"

"Scanned for what?" Ronon growled.

"The willingness for bonding," Rygel reiterated.

"You can scan for that?" Ronon muttered.

"And after it's determined that they are _willing, _how are participants pared?" Sheppard questioned tentatively.

"They are pared with the next person that is bathed by the orb," Rygel informed Sheppard, crossing his arms at his chest.

"So your custom dictates that Major Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alvarez be bonded because they were in the path of the orb?" Sheppard asked trying to wrap his head around the Xyrillian's ritual. He watched Rygel nod in agreement. The fantasy factor Kirstin getting in on with another female was alluring, but Kirstin was in no way ready for give herself to him let alone anyone else. "And how do you know that either woman is willing to do that … other than being _scanned by the light_?"

"Their bodies begin to prepare for the bonding," Rygel explained.

"How exactly?" Teyla asked.

"They exhibit signs of a fever and the need to physical contact."

"What does that mean? " Mckay questioned loudly.

"Dr. McKay, surely you understand the need for physical contact," Rygel chuckled. "Major Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alvarez have been, as you say, learning the boundaries, of their newfound relationship."

_Learning the boundaries? _Sheppard repeated in his head trying to decide what that meant. It wouldn't be the first time that a team had done something crazy under the influence of an alien substance. Knowing Mackenzie, the only boundaries she would be discovering was the sufficating sensation from her cell. _Which would send her right into a panic attack …and into defensive mode, a.k.a a fight, _he surmised. Unfamiliar with her reactions, the aggressiveness could be construed as a mating ritual. In any case, Mackenzie and Alvarez were in trouble and he needed a diversion fast.

"Rygel, I've respected your customs and norms over the past three years, but on my world we have a few of our own. Major Mackenzie and Lieutenant Alvarez report directly to me and as their commanding officer, I'm responsible for administering any disciplinary action that is due," Sheppard said flatly. "Now, I assure you that if you release the officers into my custody, there will be consequences regarding any _intrusion _into the temple."

"Colonel Sheppard, it is not just the matter of the disregard for the sanctuary of the temple. Their bodies have already begun to exhibit the characteristics of the light. It is essential that they continues the path in order to complete the purity ceremony," Rygel implored.

"Purity ceremony?" McKay repeated under his breath. "Are you saying that those that participate in this orb experience are … virgins?"

"Yes, they have not been tainted by the spoils of life," Rygel agreed nodding his head.

"Well, the orb is obviously flawed," Rodney muttered under his breath, a little louder than he intended. "Mackenzie's no virgin." Rodney felt Sheppard's glare fire daggers in his direction and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Rygel's face drew a stunned expression and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. "The orb has never misinterpreted a person at their time," he stammered.

"It is true Rygel," Teyla spoke up employing some damage control. "Major Mackenzie was abducted several months ago and brutally attacked. She is not …. _pure_ as you know it," Teyla remarked tactfully.

"Because of her attack, Major Mackenzie suffers from a medical condition that is heightened by confinement in small spaces," John added feeding into the line of bull Teyla was spewing. "I believe you are confusing the symptoms of her condition with the characteristics of _the light. _I have brought medication with me that can treat the major," Sheppard said. He pulled a hypospray out of his vest pocket and held it up for Rygel to see. "If you will release both officers to my custody, I can administer the medication and you can see for yourself."

"It is impossible," Rygel began to argue. Sheppard cut him off before he could say another word.

"Well, I've come to realize that nothing is really impossible," Sheppard replied slowly. He was quiet for a second and then waved the muzzle of the P-90 around in the air. "I assume this orb generates some type of energy field?" Sheppard asked.

"The orb emits a glowing presence during the ceremony," Rygel confirmed.

"So its possible the Wraith could have detected it from orbit?" Sheppard concluded.

Rygel was quiet for a moment. "I would not rule it out," he finally conceded.

"Well, as a measure of good faith, perhaps Dr. McKay could examine the device and see if there is a way to minimize it's signature," Sheppard remarked shooting a look at Rodney that said _don't argue. _

"No one can enter the temple outside of the ceremony," Rygel started to argue.

"Rygel, surely you would make an allowance in this circumstance if it meant deterring the Wraith from visiting your planet again," Teyla countered diplomatically.

The village leader was silent for a moment while he considered his options. "He will need to be monitored," Rygel finally answered.

"Sure, Major, Teyla, why don't you accompany Rodney," Sheppard agreed cutting Rygel off. He cocked his head to the side motioning for the two to follow the physicist.

"They will need to be monitored by a _city elder_," Rygel added firmly.

"You can go," Sheppard said calmly. "Ronon and I'll wait here for the guards to bring Mackenzie and Alvarez to us," he added with a fake smirk on his face.

* * *

"Ouch, dammit Ronon!" Lieutenant Alvarez squealed as Ronon poked his finger along the bridge of her nose. "Frick," she cursed under her breath. She winced as pain shot through her face and salty tears began to burn in her eyes.

"It's broken," Ronon remarked gruffly.

"No kidding," Alvarez replied pulling her head out of Ronon's grasp. She darted her eyes outside of the jumper looking for Major Mackenzie and Colonel Sheppard. She wiped the tears running down her face and gulped in a couple of breaths. Her face was on fire from her mangled nose and blood was trickling down her lip.

"Sit," he said pointing at a jumper's bench seat. "You're hyperventilating." Ronon put his hand under her arm and directed her over to the bench. "Did the guards do this to you?" he asked her lifting up her chin.

"No it was Major Mackenzie. We were both feeling the effects of confinement so to speak," Alvarez remarked hoarsely. Her brain scrambled to explain how she and Mackenzie, friends, could beat the crap out of each other over some insignificant banter. "Major Mackenzie isn't suffering from any _effects of the light," _Kirstin growled. "She's agitated."

"What's your excuse?" Ronon asked stepping in front of her.

"It wasn't my fault!" Alvarez replied defensively. "Mackenzie and Kavan into it yesterday before we were attacked by the Wraith. Maybe there's something in the atmosphere." She looked at Ronon to gauge his reaction but his face was a blank slate.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that something in the air caused Mac to deck you in the face and break your nose?" Ronon asked the lieutenant flatly. "Unprovoked?"

Lucy bit her lip hesitantly. What was the point of trying to hide anything; it wasn't as if Kirstin came out unscathed after their little melee. "I might have umm…antagonized her a bit," Alvarez finally anteing up. She caught the twitch of Ronon's brow just as she heard a heavy foot at the end of the jumper.

"How is she?" Sheppard asked walking in the back of the jumper.

"Nothing big," Ronon replied standing back from Alvarez. "Just a broken nose. I can realign it so it's easier for her to breathe," Ronon said to Sheppard. "It might hurt a bit," he added directing the comment toward the Lieutenant.

"Can't hurt worse than it does right now," Lucy mumbled. She felt Ronon's fingers touching her nose again.

"Wait, let Keller do it…," Sheppard started to say as he heard a crunch come from Alvarez's face and woman scream out in pain. "Dammit Ronon, what part of wait didn't you understand?" Sheppard growled as he grabbed the first aid kit off the shelf.

"Frick," Alvarez cursed as the pain nearly blinded her. The blood and the tears were freely flowing now and she crumpled forward on her legs as her line of sight began to white out. She barely felt the hands on her shoulder pushing her back against the seat.

"What's the point?" Ronon replied pinching a gauze pad over the end of Lucy's nose. "Keller would have done the same thing."

"While she was medicated," Sheppard growled.

"She's tough, she didn't need it," Ronon replied. He clapped his hand down on her leg. "You're good right? How's Mac?" he asked Sheppard not waiting for Alvarez to respond.

"She's agitated," Sheppard replied after a moment.

"See?" Alvarez said kicking Ronon in the leg. "I told you!"

* * *

Trip was dumbfounded as he stared at the monitor. He was speechless and felt paraplyzed as he stared at the image on the screen .. .the image of the miniature person that was floating inside T'Pol's body.

"There he is," Dr. Keller announced adjusting the position of the transducer.

"That's him?" Trip sputtered as he gawked at the monitor. "Seriously?" he asked with an incredulous expression on his face.

"Yes Commander, seriously," Keller replied moving the appliance again to show the baby from a different angle. "That's your son."

_My son, _Trip thought as the words echoed in his head. _Jonathan Archer's son, _he reminded himself. He felt T'Pol grab his hand roughly and he looked over at her lying on the gurney. "That's our son," he repeated aloud.

"Yes Trip," T'Pol said with a very annoyed tone.

"He looks human," Trip remarked. "I mean … he doesn't …Never mind," he stammered as he tried to understand the little life on the monitor in front of him.

"How much longer until I deliver?" T'Pol asked Keller, ignoring Trip's muttering.

"The baby has moved into position," she said setting the transducer down and picking up T'Pol's chart. "You're dilated a few more centimeters, but we're still a least a day away from delivery."

"That is not an acceptable answer Dr. Keller," T'Pol growled tersely. "Where is Lieutenant Bowyer?"

"He's sleeping; he was up all night with emergencies," Jen asked with a worried expression on her face. She glanced at the fetal monitor and watched the read out for a moment. "Are you having contractions?"

"I have been having contractions for days," T'Pol answered.

"Lieutenant Bowyer said they were Braxton Hicks or something," Trip added pulling his hand out of her grasp. He flexed his fingers trying to get the circulation back into his finger tips. _Yeow! Hope she doesn't do that during labor, _he thought as he ran his fingers over the tip of her ear to calm her down.

Dr. Keller's expression morphed from concern to reassuring after she studied the monitor and T'Pol's chart. "Tell me a little about the pain, is it regular or sporadic?"

"Sporadic."

"And how long does it last," Keller asked taking notes.

"It's a stabbing pain that last a few seconds at most," T'Pol replied sinking back into the pillow.

"Where do you feel them?"

"Here," T'Pol answered running her hand over her lower belly.

"Do they get better or worse when you move around?"

"They get better if she walks or changes positions," Trip replied feeling a little smug that Dr. Keller was more concerned about T'Pol's pain that Lieutenant Bowyer had been.

"Ah," Keller replied setting the chart down. "What you've described is Braxton Hicks contractions. True labor contractions come in regular intervals and last thirty to seventy seconds, they start in your lower back and move to the abdomen and the changing positions generally doesn't improve the pain," Keller replied in a friendly but matter-o-factly voice.

"You can't be serious," Trip muttered as his ego deflated.

"Yes Commander," Dr. Keller remarked patting T'Pol's arm. "T'Pol you'll know when it's the real thing. I suspect you'll expel the mucus plug sometime tonight…"

"The what?" Trip interrupted.

"It's a layer of mucus that collects around the cerv..."

"Ah, doc," Trip said holding up his hand. "I don't ahh really want to know," he replied. "That stuff makes me a little squeamish."

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to listen to Dr. Keller's instruction Trip," T'Pol remarked. "You'll need to be aware of the stages to call for medical help should the need arise."

"Okay," Trip said slowly feeling like she had just slapped his hand. "Okay after the mucus whatever …then what? The water breaks or something?"

"That is one of the symptoms of labor," Keller replied nodding her head. "Your best bet is to pay attention to the contractions and time them. When the interval gets to five minutes, you should bring her in."

"Bring her in," Trip repeated suddenly feeling like a babbling idiot. He walked over to the monitor that still displayed the image of the child inside his woman. "So until she's further along … can she go back to work?""

"Yep," Keller said.

"Dr. Keller," Dr.Narula called sticking his head in through the curtain. "Colonel Sheppard just landed with AG-4. He's requested a med team meet them in bio-hazard."

"Okay, I'll be right there," Keller answered Narula over her shoulder. "Any other questions?'

"No," T'Pol replied curtly. She looked around the small area and back to Dr. Keller. "Thank you doctor."

"You're welcome," Jen replied. "Check back in tomorrow at the same time unless you go into labor before then," Keller said as she excused herself from the curtained area.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard ran up the stairs and headed toward Carter's office. He could see Lieutenant Bowyer, Dr. Keller and Sam all standing around one of the plasma monitors. _Bowyer looks like hell, _he thought as he walked through the control room. Rumor had it that T'Pol was in labor and then entire base was on edge waiting for the child's arrival. Sheppard could only guess that the Lieutenant had been up all night tending to the impending arrival of the infant.

"You needed to see me?" John announced as he walked through the doorway of Carter's office.

"Yes," Sam replied watching him walk in. "We were just talking about T'Pol."

"I heard she was in labor," John said nodding his head. _They didn't really call me up here to talk about that, _he wondered as he scanned the room. He had a ton of work to do and then there was the Mackenzie factor that he needed to get back too. At the present moment she was sleeping in his quarters in her sexy black night gown. "When will she deliver?" he asked just to sound interested.

"Probably not until tomorrow," Bowyer replied. "Or maybe even the next day. It isn't an exact science. There's never been a Vulcan-Human hybrid carried to term before," the man added.

"I thought she and Doyle had a child together?" Sheppard muttered completely confused.

"They did," Bowyer replied. "But that child was genetically engineered in a lab and grown in a test tube."

"Ah," John nodded still questioning why he needed to know any of it. "So how long are you or we going to wait for T'Pol to deliver naturally?"

"If she doesn't deliver in the next forty eight hours, we're going to induce her," Keller answered. "Based on her exam earlier, I think Mother Nature is going to cooperate though."

"I hope that's not why you called me up here," John asked finally vocalizing his true feelings.

"No," Carter informed him. "Chip and Jen have some information on Alvarez's and Mackenzie's condition."

"Ah, you mean the _characteristics of the light_?" John remarked with a chuckle.

"Yeah," Keller laughed at the comment. "The thing is Lieutenant Alvarez was right about there being something in the atmosphere," Keller replied crossing her arms at her chest.

"What'd'ya mean?" John asked with a confused expression on his face.

"The atmospheric scans that Dr. McKay took indicated a different composition in the gas layer, which caused a reaction," Carter replied looking at John. She saw the confusion in his eye and tried to explain it in non-technical language. "The air is different on PX1908-M3 than it is here," she added.

"Different … like in how," Sheppard asked still confused.

"In short? It has toxic properties," Keller replied.

"Toxic" Just to the Hero crew?" John asked.

"No, it's toxic to everyone," Bowyer said. He turned around and powered on the plasma monitor as Sheppard mumbled a question in the background.

"I've been there lots of times and never had a reaction," John mumbled.

"Probably because you've only been there for short amounts of time," Keller explained. "The air has properties that cause an irritation to our system. I suspect that is why the Xyrillians are cave dwellers; the rock walls shield them from the effects of the atmosphere."

"And irritation? Like an allergy?" Sheppard asked.

"Well, I wouldn't use _that_ term since some people get all freaky deaky about allergens," Bowyer replied. "I would liken it to a mosquito bite or in advanced stages a brush with poison ivy," he explained pointing at some data on the screen. "Initially it's just bothersome, but prolonged exposure and friction would cause it to inflame."

"We went back to check the records of the off world teams that have visited the planet. Anyone that spent more than a couple of hours there reported symptoms similar to Mackenzie and Alvarez, headaches, dizziness, blurred vision and in some cases nausea and agitation," Jen remarked.

"And like a mosquito bite where scratching or friction brings about some temporary relief, getting into a physical altercation probably gave the three of them some respite from their reaction," Bowyer added. "The surface temperature acted as an accelerant."

"You're saying the heat made it worse?" John asked as the picture suddenly became clear.

"Yes."

"So then this _orb _ceremony the Xyrillians take part in is, for all practical purposes, fake?"

"There's definitely an energy field surrounding the orb," Bowyer said. "But based on the scans that McKay took, it isn't anything more than an intense flashlight burst," he added shrugging his shoulders.

"The base reaction is already in their system, so the _ceremony _of walking in front of the orb to find their mate, is just a way of throwing … say gasoline on a fire," Carter concluded.

"Right," Bowyer nodded. "All the light does is heightens the reaction."

"Hence the aggressive tendencies," Sheppard replied nodding his head. "And to think they consider it a religious event."

"That's typical," Carter remarked. "Many cultures base religious beliefs or norm on phenomenon that has a scientific explanation."

"Both Alvarez and Mackenzie are cleared for duty tomorrow, although I would caution you on their moods," Keller added. "It may take a few days to work all the aggression from their systems."

* * *

"Hey sleepy," he whispered in her ear as he leaned over the bed. He looked at his watch as she whimpered below him. _Eighteen hundred hours, _he mentally noted. _She's been asleep for three, no four hours. It's time to wake up. _He smiled at her little noises and ran a finger down the side of her cheek.

"Th'y'la," she muttered rolling over to look at him. "That was the first real sleep I've had all day," T'Pol remarked sticking her lower lip out in a pout.

_Emotions are definitely getting the best of her these days, _Trip thought nearly laughing aloud at the look on her face. "You were asleep for almost four hours, I was getting concerned," he replied innocently.

"Concerned or bored?"

_She doesn't miss much, _Trip thought ducking his head sheepishly. "Maybe, a little both," he replied slowly. "And maybe something else," he practically whispered. Their close proximity was making him …well… horny.

T'Pol felt his thoughts without him saying anything further. "I hardly think it would be acceptable to engage in such activity at this point in my pregnancy," she replied flatly giving him an evil glare.

"I don't know about that," Trip replied lying next to her on the bed. He propped his head up on his arm and ran his hand down the side of her body. "Both my mother and sister in law had sex during the final days of their pregnancy and they didn't suffer any ill effects." Trip expertly ran his tongue over her ear and pressed his hand against a pressure point on her hip. "In fact, it made my sister in law go into labor early."

T'Pol scanned the wall in front of her and relaxed against Trip letting him know she was open to the idea. "Perhaps a little affection would be acceptable," she answered rolling her body slowly in his direction.

* * *

Sex was all it was about tonight, which wasn't his intent when he crawled into bed next to her. Apparently she had other ideas, ideas that included working him up into near blue ball frenzy and then impaling her tight ass on his pulsating energy.

_Yeah, she's definitely still feeling the characteristics of the light, _John thought as he forced himself to not explode inside of his woman. She was making it very difficult to concentrate on anything other than her very muscular body, her perfect breasts dangling seductively in his face and the hot lava tube that was molded perfectly around his dick at the present second. _And her lips, so full and kissable and, geezus John! _he scolded himself.

He reached around her torso and ran his hands down the length of her back and locked his legs around hers. With his lips planted firmly against her mouth, he pulled her body close to his and flipped them both over on the bed. Sheppard smiled as a squeal escaped her lips, startled at the sudden movement and the mystery of how he managed to remain inside her, never missing a beat. Once he had pinned down, he reached over to the nightstand and quietly opened the drawer.

"What are you up to?" Kirstin asked breathlessly as he pulled back from her lips.

"Just making things interesting," he whispered. He palmed the vibrator and another condom from the drawer. He sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled away from her body. "Roll over," he said as he moved so she can untangle her legs from around him. He slapped on a fresh condom as she moved into place and smeared some lube over the vibrator before leaning over her.

"John?" Kirstin questioned.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear. He could feel her trembling below him and kissed her neck and earlobe to reassure her. John slid his hand into hers and guided it down to her mound, tricking her fingers into working her folds, with his gentle pressure behind her hand. As she gasped and wriggled below him, he pushed up on his elbow and picked up the vibrator. He nosed it toward her center and when it made contact with her hand, he pushed it into her core.

John smiled as Kirstin moaned in pleasure. His attention remained intently on his partner, getting her adjusted to the toy and working it to push her over the edge. She climaxed the first time within seconds of the vibrator being buried deep within her. Little did she know that was only the start, as tonight he was going to push her to the limit by playing with the toy while having sex. _This could totally backfire, but she started it, _he thought as he began to rub his heat against her backside again.

* * *

It probably wasn't the most comfortable position she had ever been in sex wise, but amazingly the most satisfying. Their little act of indiscretion had started in the bed, but when neither could find a position that gave them the right amount of leverage. So they were forced to get creative. Their current position and location spawned out of a comment that Rodney McKay had made to her weeks ago. _Clarify that, a speculation that I called him out on, _T'Pol thought as she gritted her teeth and gripped the side of the vanity for balance.

For all practical purposes, T'Pol was bent over the sink and Trip was going at her with slow thrusts. A deep moan escaped her lips as Trip hit her spot with every stroke. She could see his reflection in the mirror, the concentration on his face as he forced his orgasm back. She could tell he was in sensory overload … well, who wasn't? Every one of her nerve endings were on fire. The pressure hit her like a release, taking away all the discomfort of her labor and turning the twisted pain in her pit into waves of erotic pleasure. It was all happening fast and furious and before T'Pol could even react to it, she had reached her apex.

"Th'y'la," she cried out as her orgasm blasted through her system. Trip was right, this was exactly what she needed tonight and it made her wonder why they hadn't been doing it since returning to Atlantis three weeks ago.

"T'Pol!" Trip growled hoarsely as he quickly followed her. He slammed into her one final time and his body flinched as his seed released.

* * *

"Geezus baby, ooo tight!"

Kirstin heard the words echo in her ear and could feel John's presence was all around her. Their bodies were smashed together in a hot tangle of arms, legs, fingers and sweat. John's arousal was pressed in her rear and alternating between fast and slow thrusts. She had the vibrator tucked up her center and kicked to the high setting. Between the pressure of her lover and the fierce agitation against her core, Kirstin was quickly coming unglued, in a good way this time.

"Shit, John," she panted unable to move an inch as her third orgasm rocked through her. She heard Sheppard chuckle hoarsely in her ear and she cursed through gritted teeth. "I'm …I'm… god … aw fuck," she mumbled clenching the sheets in front of her with her fist.

She heard John cry out behind her and still his movements as he finally lost his resolve. His arms trembled against her skin as he pulled slowly out and lowered down against the side of her body. Neither said anything and the only sound either heard for a moment was their panting and gasping for breath. Within a minute, Kirstin could feel John's hand slide slowly toward her mound and reach for the vibrator still buried deep within her folds.

_He's not! _Kirstin protested only in her head as she felt him move the device roughly against her spot. Her breath hitched in her throat and she bucked her hips back against him. It didn't take much manipulating to push her over the edge again.

"Baby, stop!" Kirstin blubbered as her body clenched around his fingers and the vibrator. She grabbed his hand and stilled his movements. "John," she cried as tears tumbled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"It's okay Joes," he whispered tenderly in her ear. "Let it go," he said resting his head against her shoulder.

Kirstin whimpered as her muscles worked through her fourth orgasm. She licked the salty tears from her lips and tried to relax against his embrace. _How does he make me come like that, _she thought feeling her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Kirstin rolled toward her mate once she felt him pull the vibrator from her body. The emptiness sent a shudder through her system and caused her to stiffen slightly.

"Are you coming again?" he asked her catching a tear with his thumb.

"Coming still," she panted looking up into his hazel eyes. They were fully dilated and sparkling even in the dim light of his room. "I'm in trouble," she whispered just as he brushed his lips against hers.

"Why?" he asked when they finally came up for air.

_Cause I'm in love with you_, she signed to him wordlessly.

* * *

T'Pol stood in the bathroom and stared into the mirror. _I'm in trouble, _she thought as she glanced down at the puddle on the floor. She grabbed a towel and dropped it over the spot and then moved it around with her foot to wipe it up. _I'll pick it up later, _she thought as she waddled out of the room and headed toward the bed to wake up Trip.

"Trip," she said as she shook his shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he looked up at her next to the bed. "It's time," she said flatly when she was sure he was awake.

"Baby, it's not time," Trip growled rolling his head back into the pillow. "You've been saying that all day. Come on, lay down. I'll rub your back until you go to sleep."

"Trip, I'm in trouble," T'Pol said shaking his shoulder again.

"What kind of trouble?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"My water has broken," T'Pol said. The words had barely left her mouth as she watched her mate spring out of the bed.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Trip blurted out as he ran to the dresser to find his BDU's.

"I'm telling you now," she replied just as a contraction hit her. "Ah," she moaned as she leaned into the pain.

"Frick!" Trip cursed as he hopped around the room on one foot trying to put his pants on. "T'Pol are you okay? Where the radio?" he yelped not giving her a chance to respond. When he finally managed to get his pants up he ran to T'Pol's side and rubbed her back while mentally timing the contraction. "Five minutes! When the hell did you're your contractions get to five minutes? Holy frick!"

"Trip, relax, we have plenty of time to walk down to the infirmary," T'Pol replied plainly standing just inside the door. She watched him dart around the room trying to get his things together. "Could you pick up the towel that is on the floor in the bathroom and throw it in the hamper?" she called to him as he ran into the small room.

"There's blood on it! Are you bleeding?" Trip asked leaning out of the room.

"No," she replied giving him a stare that could melt ice.

"Where's the radio?" Trip rambled not believing her answer. "Commander Tucahoyle to Lieutenant Bowyer," he called when he finally was able to find his earwig.

"Bowyer here."

"T'Pol's water broke and her contractions are five minutes apart," Trip reported into the airwaves without pausing to take a breath.

"Okay Commander, I'll be waiting for you in sick bay," Bowyer's smooth voice replied. "And Commander, please remember to breath on your way down here, otherwise I'm going to have to treat you for oxygen deprivation.

* * *

The banter from the surrounding tables in the mess hall filtered through the air like a chaotic melody. Those sitting at the table near the balcony found a way to zone it out.

"She wants to name him what?"

"Rehkuh," Trip repeated taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ra…ka?" Kirstin repeated completely mangling the word.

"For someone that can speak seven languages you don't annunciate very well," Tucker scolded. "Reh …kuh." The word rolled off his tongue like it was his native language.

Kirstin tilted her head as she let the word settle in her brain. "That sounds like a Vulcan word."

"It is," he replied stirring his oatmeal.

"What's it mean?"

"Three."

"Three?" Kirstin's facial expression went from disbelief to confusion. "She wants to name her son three?"

"Yeah," Trip replied shrugging his shoulders. "She told me after the delivery that three was a special number to her." He stuck a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth so he didn't have to say anything further.

Kirstin leaned over the table and stared at him. "I thought she was going to name him after Admiral Archer?"

"We are," Trip mumbled swallowing his food. He took another sip of coffee. "Jonathan Rehkuh."

"And you're going for that?"

"He's her son Kirstin," Trip reminded her firmly. "She can name him anything she wants."

"He's your son too! Don't you get a say in his name?"

"I do, his last name," Trip replied as he continued to eat his oatmeal.

"Jonathan Rehkuh Doyle," Kirstin said sarcastically. "Or are you going to use Tucker?"

"Enough with the attitude Major," Trip chided her crisply. It was the only way he could reel her in these days. Her recovery from her abduction had left her a little _cocky _although the description hardly fit her profile. It was no wonder that Alvarez and Schmitt were both transferring off base. That left two of Hero's crew on Atlantis, Bowyer and Mackenzie. Tucker was okay with Bowyer's decision to stay as he had found a home for himself in the medical department. Mackenzie remained a constant worry for both him and T'Pol. "I don't think I need to remind you that Charles Tucker is dead. Officially now in two universes."

"Sorry, sir," she mumbled grabbing her coffee cup and taking a sip as a distraction.

Trip knew his words had zapped her in the butt when he saw the sad expression on her face. He momentarily felt guilty for reprimanding her. _There I go again … not separating the big brother thing from the commanding officer, _he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Kirstin's facial expression change and followed her eyes across the room. _Colonel Sheppard, _Trip observed as a sly grin crawled across his face. He ducked his head and played it like his bowl of oatmeal was the only concern he had in the world.

"What'cha thinking about?" he prompted her once he had his game face on.

"Ah, nothing," Kirstin stammered as a huge smile gave her secret away. It wasn't just the smile, but the sparkle in her eye.

"Hmm hmm," Trip muttered setting his spoon down. "You're in love Kirstin."

"I am… ha," she stuttered making eye contact with him. "Yea ...maybe," she finally whispered.

"There isn't any maybe about it," Trip replied as Colonel Sheppard approached their table. "Don't worry. I approve. I'll even give you away at your wedding if ya want," he added.

"Trip!" Kirstin yelped in surprise. "Not necessary!" she whispered tersely as John took the final step to the table.

"Commander Doyle," John greeting them as he stood next to the table. He walked behind Kirstin and trailed his hand over the back of her neck before pulling out the chair next to her. He set his coffee cup down as he sat in the chair.

_Yep, they're in love, _Trip thought as he watched the two officers make puppy-dog eyes at each other. _Thank god T'Pol and I didn't act like that, _he mused taking a sip of his coffee.

"I just came from the infirmary," Colonel Sheppard said in the background. "T'Pol's sleeping and the baby is checking out the sights." He took a sip of his coffee.

Trip notice Mackenzie's hand slip under the table and he looked down at his coffee cup. _They're holding hands, _he thought suddenly feeling very territorial around his pseudo little sister. "T'Pol needs the rest," he said mindlessly. "The baby came out with that shoot first ask questions later mentality," he added chuckling.

"Just like his father," Mackenzie smiled. "Both of them."

"Yeah, well, luckily for T'Pol's sake he inherited his father's ears," Trip remarked. "Elizabeth had T'Pol's ears and Earth in our timeline didn't take to kindly to that," he added ruefully.

"He looks human enough to live a full life on Earth with no one being the wiser," Sheppard confirmed.

"Unless he gets sick," Mackenzie countered.

"Considering everything I've read about the rising cost of health care in this universe, he should consider himself lucky." Trip said playing with the edge of his coffee cup. "He'll be treated by military doctors until he's old and gray,"

"Which reminds me," John said carefully. "Exactly how long is that going to be? Isn't T'Pol a lot older than she looks?" He tilted his head quizzically.

"In Vulcan years, yes," Mackenzie confirmed.

"Which means that lil'Jonathan will probably live to be a hundred and ninety some years old," Trip replied adding it up quickly in his head. "The oldest Vulcan I ever knew was almost two hundred years old."

Kirstin turned her head as the control room called her over the airwaves. "I'm on way," she said into the mic. "Gotta go," she remarked to Trip and John as she packed up her tray.

"Where are you going?" Trip questioned. "I thought you were injured on a mission yesterday?"

"Not injured exactly," Mackenzie replied looking over at John innocently.

"Oh, so all those scratches and the black eye?" Trip asked pointing at her face.

"She got in an argument with her team mates," John replied looking at her with one of his signature _know-it-all _stares.

"Which was induced by an alien compound," Kirstin said defensively. "You know, we had Xyrillians in our universe too and I'm sure Commander Doyle can tell you just how friendly they were!"

"I don't think we need to go there," Trip said hastily.

"It wasn't just me and Alvarez that were about to get pimped," Kirstin said pushing her chair back. "Trip got to know them intimately."

"Major," Trip said throwing her a caution flare.

"I'm interested," John said catching the glares. It was clear that in between the lines there was a story waiting to be told.

"Trip played in the rocks with some cute Xyrillian girl and got himself knocked up," Kirstin teased standing up. "On my way," she mumbled faking that she was talking into the radio. "Gotta go!" she said darting away from the table.

"You got knocked up by an alien?" Sheppard asked completely stunned by the statement. "Like in pregnant?"

Tucker waved his hand nonchalantly trying desperately to explain away the embarrassing mark on Charles Tucker the Third's record. "Well, you know how it is when you're hanging around aliens," he sighed. _I'm going to kill Kirstin for this. _

"Trip?"

Tucker shook his head as a memory of Captain Archer prodding him for an answer on Enterprise so many years ago flooded his mind. He looked across the table at Colonel Sheppard and shrugged his shoulders. "In their species the males carry the offspring," he contributed playing with the edge of his coffee cup.

"The male? So how …. does…that work?" Sheppard asked stumbling over his words as he tried to picture it in his mind.

"The embryo is actually conceived in the female and then transferred to the male through physical contact," Trip explained. "The male just acts as the host."

"You did the woo-woo with an Xyrillian female?"

"I didn't do the _woo-woo_," Trip retorted rolling his eyes at the weird use of the slang. "I just...put my hands in a box of pebbles with her to play some game of theirs." Trip was quiet as he thought about the memory. "She was cute though ... I've always been curious what doing the _woo-woo_ would have entailed with that species."

"So you were the host?" John half asked half repeated. He tilted his head in thought for a moment trying to process the information. "Where did you …" his voice trailed off not needing to finish the question.

"On my flank," Trip replied holding his hands over the left side of his torso.

"And you found out because it started to…distend?"

"No. I went to sick bay because I had this bump on my wrist that I thought was an allergic reaction. Instead the CMO informed me it was a nipple," Trip answered now going more for the wow factor than being embarrassed about the whole situation. The stunned, shocked and perplexed expressions rippling across Sheppard's face were worth a thousand laughs.

"You grew a nipple?" John choked.

"Yeah, two of them actually," Trip nodded. "I covered them with a band aid so no one would get freaked out."

"And the?" Sheppard muttered waving his hand at his chest. "What …ah… happened?"

"Well, then I started to have all the common side effects of pregnancy … you know… mood swings and the cravings," Trip explained resting his arms on the table. "It took a couple of weeks to find the Xyrillian ship again so obviously _it_ was growing. I wore civilian clothing to cover it up. When we found the Xyrillians _it_ was transferred to another host."

"Transferred? Surgically I hope," Sheppard remarked mentally shuddering at the imagery.

"Yes, Colonel," Trip smirked. "It was surprisingly painless in fact, which is a far cry from how T'Pol delivered."

"I was there at the end remember? Her screams woke up the entire city," John reminded him.

"Yeah, she was a little loud," Trip chuckled. "Kinda surprising for a species that suppresses their emotion."

"This is outer space Commander," Sheppard said standing up from the table. "Nothing should surprise you."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Sorry for the delay ... managerial finance sucks rocks ... in case any college students out there are thinking about taking it. Thanks to my beta Deb for the little tweeks that make every thing sound all pretty.

Chapter 14

A/N Time line: The end of Missing

"Oh for the love of god!" Rodney McKay grumbled as he paced through the empty Athosian village. "What the hell is wrong with you people? How the hell could you lose a Marine in broad daylight?" he barked throwing his arms up in the air.

"She's hardly lost Dr. McKay," Major Jeeter replied crisply. He hated that condescending scientist with a passion, especially now that he butted into his _private _conversation with Major Lorne regarding Major Mackenzie's whereabouts.

"Well, she's not here and she's not answering her radio!" McKay practically screamed. "That's a pretty good indication that she's lost." He rested his hands on his hips are glared impatiently at the two officers.

"I wouldn't come to that conclusion," Major Lorne replied as he scanned the tree line. "Her team was searching the area to the west by some caves. It's possible the rock is causing interference."

"Since when are you the scientist?" McKay questioned the executive officer of Atlantis.

"Since I graduated top of my class from Air Force Aviator School," Lorne replied smugly. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand that land forms containing certain minerals will cause radio interference."

"Oh great! Use my own words on me," McKay grumbled stomping around like a five year old having a tantrum. "Fine Mr. Wannabe Physicist! Whatever! Whose brainy idea was it to bring her out here anyway? She has a personal relationship with these people … she's probably lost her objectivity and is out in the woods having a nervous breakdown!" McKay huffed. His face was bright red and he was practically shaking with anger.

"If I'm not mistaken, you requested her on the mission Doctor," Jeeter replied frankly resting his hands on the top of his P-90.

"I did no such thing!" McKay retorted, completely insulted that Jeeter would even suggest such a thing.

"Yes you did," Jeeter argued back.

"There is absolutely no way I would request that emotional baggage pit excuse for a marine or a physicist…."

"You requested AG-5 join the search for forensic study," Jeeter yelled at McKay pointing his finger right in his face.

"Yes! _AG-5_! Last I checked Mackenzie was assigned to your sorry ass team AG-4!" McKay hollered defiantly.

Major Jeeter lunged for McKay's throat and nearly made contact before Major Lorne stepped between the two. "Doc, Major Mackenzie was reassigned to AG-5 three weeks ago when Doctor Hyder was transferred back to Earth," Loren said sternly holding Jeeter back.

"Dr. Hyder transferred back to Earth?" McKay muttered looking completely shocked. "Never mind….I'd like to have a word with the incompetent idiot that made that reassignment."

"Well look in the mirror!" Jeeter growled pulling away from Lorne's hold.

"Are you saying I did that?" McKay questioned.

"Yes we are!" Both Lorne and Jeeter replied frankly.

"Oh, ah," McKay stammered with embarrassment. "I'm going back to the base to compile the report. You…." he gestured in their direction and tried to make a decent recovery of making an ass out of himself. "You can spend some more of your day trying to find Blondie before Sheppard finds out you've lost her, _AGAIN!_" With that, McKay turned on his heel and headed back toward the gate.

Major Jeeter and Lorne watched the man walk away in silence before making any comment. "He's going to tell Sheppard you know," Jeeter said as soon as the good doctor was out of earshot.

"I know," Lorne replied impatiently. He looked down at his watch. "That gives us about fifteen minutes to find her."

"Fifteen minutes!" Jeeter exclaimed. "We've already been looking for an hour!"

"Well, unless you find some perverse pleasure in the boss having your ass, I suggest you try a little harder," Lorne quipped.

* * *

"How'd it go on New Athos?" Colonel Sheppard asked McKay as soon as he walked through the doors of the conference room.

"That depends on how you want to look at it," McKay replied as he dinked around with his laptop. "The cliff notes version?"

"Yeah," Sheppard said leaning against the side of the table.

"The arrow blasting cave men are gone and there is no trace of the Athosian's on the planet," McKay replied. He sighed loudly and ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose.

"So were they…." John's voice trailed off, not wanting to say the "c" word.

"Culled? I don't know," Rodney replied looking up at him. "There isn't any sign of it, not the way we are familiar with, at least. There aren't any traces of weapons fire or violence. The tents are standing and there isn't any damage to the village. It's like they just disappeared."

"People don't just disappear," Sheppard replied getting up and pacing around the room. "Okay maybe one or two people can disappear at a time, but there were over two hundred Athosians in the settlement."

"I know!" McKay replied. He started to peck at the keys to his laptop as a distraction. "I don't have a better explanation for you Colonel. They are just gone. Maybe someone marched them right out the gate."

"That's not what happened to them," John replied.

"How do you know?" McKay asked turning to look at him.

"Because there was no evidence of it at the gate," Sheppard remarked staring at McKay's confused expression. "Two hundred people walking through the gate would have trampled the grass," he over explained to Rodney.

"When did you notice that? We flew through the gate in the jumper."

"Details Rodney," Sheppard said leaning over the back of the chair. "I'm trained to be cognizant of the details"

"Ah, yeah, right," McKay, grumbled turning back to the computer. "Too bad Lorne and Jeeter didn't pick up those skills," he added under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" John replied quickly getting perturbed at McKay's attitude about his men.

"They lost Mackenzie," he replied as if it was no big deal.

"They what?" John guffawed staring at McKay in disbelief.

"She went off the radar during the search," McKay replied. "They are still looking for her." McKay shrugged his shoulders acting like it was an everyday occurrence that Mackenzie disappeared.

"She what?" Sheppard practically yelled in his face. "What the hell was Kirstin doing on New Athos? AG-5 was supposed to be assisting Doctor Lindsay…"

"Yeah, well," Rodney interrupted, somewhat sheepishly. "I requested AG-5 to help with the search."

"You what?" Sheppard yelled for real this time. "The last place Kirstin needed to be today is on New Athos looking for the Athosians!"

"Okay, yeah, well, I forgot that she was assigned to AG-5," McKay muttered quietly.

"You forgot? You assigned her to the team!" Sheppard growled as he loomed over Rodney.

"Stop yelling at me!" McKay squawked practically cowering under the table. "You know how I have a problem with people's names!"

* * *

"I got her at three o clock," Jeeter said as the two officers stood on the ridge overlooking the river.

"Where?" Lorne asked training his binoculars on the location. "I don't see her," he added scanning the near horizon.

"She's less than a hundred feet from us," Jeeter said pushing the binoculars down from Lorne's face. He pointed to a ledge to their right when Major Mackenzie was sitting.

"Oh, there," Lorne said shoving the glasses in his pocket. "Thank you Captain Jones," he muttered under his breath as the two made their way to the ledge. The captain had reminded the two that Mackenzie visited the river often on her trips to New Athos. The same river that had nearly claimed her life mere months ago.

"Major," Lorne called to her as he and Jeeter stepped down to her level. "Taking a sidebar trip without permission?"

"Problem with your radio?" Jeeter asked stepping around to side of Mackenzie.

The two caught Mackenzie off guard. "What?" she stammered flinching at the sight of them.

"Radio?" Lorne motioned at his ear. "We've been calling you for the past hour."

"No?" Mackenzie mumbled frantically searching her vest for her radio. She pulled it from the pocket only to discover the volume switch in the off position. "Shit, I must have turned it off accidentally," she said evasively.

"I suggest you turn it on forth with," Jeeter informed her. "The Colonel is going to call for a report in about five seconds and you need to be the one answering," he said shifting the weight on his feet.

"Why?" Kirstin stammered still trying to recover from their intrusion into her _quiet _time.

"McKay ratted you out to Sheppard for being AWOL from the search," Lorne replied just as Sheppard's voice crackled over the airwaves.

"AG-2 from Control, what's your status?" Sheppard called in his signature pissed off tone.

Mackenzie fumbled with her earpiece and cleared her throat, putting on her authoritative voice. "Control this is AG-5, Mackenzie. All clear. Returning to base," she said crisply into the radio. She pushed into a standing position and reclipped her P-90 to her vest.

"Glad to hear it," Sheppard replied without the edge in his voice. "Control out."

"Okay, let's go," Mackenzie said quickly once the cover up was in place.

"Not so fast," Lorne replied looking at her carefully. Something wasn't right with the expression in her eyes. Her body language exuded that "_hand caught in the cookie jar_ persona. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Mackenzie replied flippantly.

"Because it's a lot to take in Mac," Jeeter said slowly as he caught onto her game. "You were close to these people. A lot closer than most of us."

"So?"

Lorne shot a glance in Jeeter's direction over the top of Mackenzie's head. "So, it would be understandable if you were a little shaken up over their disappearance," Lorne remarked looking her dead in the eye. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the rattled expression remained in her eyes. Mackenzie avoided any eye contact with the two team leads and shifted her weigh nervously in her stance.

"Mac?" Jeeter prodded her. "What're ya doing out here?"

"Just thinking," she whispered barely audible.

"About?"

"Nothing," she said walking past the two officers and heading down the path. She only made it a couple of steps when Jeeter grabbed her sleeve. "Let go of me," she said loudly pulling her arm from his grasp.

"No Mac, you need to talk about this," Jeeter said frankly.

"Or you could wait and talk to Captain Edwards back at the base." Lorne added. "But wouldn't you rather get it out in the open with people that understand you rather than the base shrink?"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Kirstin shouted. She eyed both men with a glare that could melt ice. "If the two of you want to talk about it so bad, stay here and talk to each other, I'm heading back to the gate."

* * *

"Bowyer to Mackenzie/"

The radio crackled in her ear as she removed her tac vest in the gear room. "_Geezus can't people just leave me alone?" _Kirstin sighed and rolled her eyes not making a move to answer the call. She removed the mag from the P-90 and handed it over to the Corporal Anderson who was waiting for her ordinance.

"Are you not talking to me or something?" Bowyer's voice boomed through the small room loud and clear this time. Mackenzie looked up from where she was tying her shoe.

"No," she said plastering a smile on her face as the lieutenant walked over to her.

"No what?"

"No, I'm not … not talking to you," she replied briskly. "Just surveying the sights with AG-5."

"Stop acting like you hate it," Bowyer said smacking her gently on the shoulder. "You love being the science geek on missions."

"Yeah, whatever. Not today," Mackenzie replied closing her locker. "Did you want something?" she asked turning around to face him.

"Woo, grouch! I was going to ask you if you wanted to get lunch, but I don't know," he said holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm not in the mood to have all the life sucked out of my lungs today."

"Good, because I'm not hungry," she said walking out of the room without looking back.

* * *

T'Pol watched the marines load the last of the boxes onto the dolly and cart them out of her suite. Two overnight bags sitting on the bed, hers and Jonathan's, were all that remained. _I've been serving in Starfleet for over fifteen years and barely carried anything more than a large suitcase, _she thought as she looked around the now empty room. "When did I accumulate so many things?" she muttered under her breath.

"This place has that effect," Ronon answered as he stepped around the marine at the door and walked into her room. "You ready to go?"

"It appears so," T'Pol replied standing emotionless in the middle of the room. "Everything is packed."

"I meant to work out," he said looking around the room.

T'Pol looked at man in front of her in silence for a moment. He was many things to her and would always have a place in her memory, but their time together was nearly done. "Yes," she replied quietly.

"I sense some hesitation," Ronon commented.

"I will miss this place and the people I have met here," T'Pol replied after a moment.

"Isn't _missing _an emotion?" he asked with a smirk on his face. "Been around humans too long?"

"Perhaps," T'Pol replied. "The people on this base have a certain eclectic appeal that makes their company pleasurable."

"Even McKay?" Ronon asked with a smile

"Even McKay. During the final stages of my pregnancy arguing with him was quite enjoyable," she said arching her brow at him.

"I think a few people would admit to missing you as well," Ronon joked. "McKay, Sheppard, Teyla, Mac and me, of course," Ronon replied walking back to the door.

"Ronon, I will always appreciate our friendship," T'Pol said slowly and followed the man into the hall.

"I know," Ronon replied. "I'm hard to forget.

* * *

Kirstin paced at the side of the crib trying to comfort the crying child in her arms. She desperately wanted to relinquish him to the med tech standing a few feet away but her heart couldn't set him down. In an odd way, his innocence gave her comfort.

Today was a horrible day. She lost many friends on New Athos. Tomorrow wouldn't' be any better as T'Pol and Lil'Jon would be leaving Atlantis for the final time to start their new lives with Trip on Earth. Mayweather, Alonso and Yi had transferred to Earth months ago. The Daedulas had left with Alvarez and Schmitt last week. _Just Chip and I remain, _she thought running her fingertips over Jon's ear. The pressure began to calm the child just as the med tech handed her his bottle.

"Thanks," Kirstin muttered as she sat down in the nearest chair and gently pushed the nipple into his eager little mouth. The sight of him mesmerized Kirstin to the point that all sound from the infirmary disappeared in the background. Mac swayed her body as she quietly sang a nursery tune to him.

Kirstin had sold herself on the idea that she was okay with all of this change. She had even given Captain Edwards, the base psychologist, the most convincing speech about it. Then all that changed today when AG-5 was ordered to New Athos to help with the forensic search.

She had run from the gate, not believing the radio traffic that the villagers were missing. She ran from tent to tent frantically searching inside and outside for her friends. The stillness of the atmosphere chilled her to the bone. It was all so surreal. Mackenzie stood in the middle of the village and closed her eyes, hearing the laughter and the conversations and the sounds of life in her heart. She was going to kill whoever did this to them.

The worst part about the Athosian's disappearance was that she was supposed to be there. She would have been there if Dr. McKay hadn't cancelled her trip in order to send AG-5 to assist Dr. Lindsay. Instead Kirstin had transmitted the lesson to her friend and helper from the Athosian village and promised Jinto and the boys the next time she came to visit she would drag Colonel Sheppard with her. _I'll bring him kickin' and screamin' if I have too, _she remembered looking down at the baby.

"Count your blessings that you're growing up on Earth Lil'Jon," she whispered as he wrapped his tiny fingers around her hand. "Uncle Alonso and Auntie Yi will teach you about math and science and Uncle Travis will show you how to cruise the bars and pick up girls. Your mom and dad will keep you safe and your meanie big sis will beat up all the bullies that pick on you at school," she mumbled running her hand over the top of his head.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard found Kirstin in the Infirmary an hour later. Both she and the baby were asleep in the chair, slumped against the side of the crib. John walked over to her and gently pulled the child from her arms. He snuggled Lil'Jon close and quieted his whimpers before laying him down in the crib.

"Hey," he whispered into Kirstin's ear as he touched her shoulder to wake her. He watched her eyes open and the panic fill her face when she realized the baby wasn't in her arms anymore. John held his finger to his lip and then pointed at the crib. "It's late, let's go to bed," he said motioning for Mac to follow him.

He led her wordlessly to her quarters, to the comforts of her life that she needed to center herself. They undressed in silence and crawled onto the futon positioned in front of the balcony. In seconds they found peace of each others arms, an unspoken understanding the two shared. A solace from the unpredictable world in this strange galaxy.

It didn't take long for Sheppard to sense this night would be different from any other. Kirstin's scent was different, her movements sensual and nearly artistic. Their bodies moved to the music they shared in their minds and their hearts. His heart skipped a beat as she whispered the four words he had thought he would never hear. At that moment, he realized the events that occurred before was simply foreplay all leading to this moment, preparing each other for the ultimate gift they would share.

Everything was different in the second he thrust into her. As Kirstin's body adjusted to his girth, she reacted to his energy, arching her back to close the gap between them. John's powerful final push within her core shattered the invisible barrier she had kept between them all these months. Their rhythm was filled with passion and tenderness, a far cry from the frantic emotion starved sex that had consumed their lives before this night.

"John," she gasped into the side of his neck. Kirstin's body quivered in pleasure as her body melded with her partner. She thought she had felt pleasure before with Sheppard, but it paled in comparison to the sensations flooding over her every nerve ending. Kirstin couldn't get enough as it riddled though her veins. "John," she cried arching her body against his chest and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Shh shh, shh," he whispered huskily cupping his hand her to face. He caught a tear with his lips as he peppered her cheek with kisses. "Look at me," he said as he pushed her knees to her chest and ventured deeper within her. He felt her muscle relax and open below him, swallowing him deeper into her center. John locked his gaze on Kirstin and pulled each other through the euphoria.

There weren't words to express the emotions ripping through their brains as they bonded in a way that only true lovers could. The combined moans and heavy breathing told a story all its own. The quivering muscles gripped whatever was near to steady themselves as their bodies reeled in the energy. Their eyes locked in a hypnotic trance as pure bliss tapped every nerve ending known to exist. It was a feeling like no other, a moment in time captured in its own time line.

* * *

The cool wind nipped at her skin as she walked along the pier. She took a deep breath filled her nostril with the sharp scent of the ocean. _I will miss this, _she thought as the layers of the sea and the salt filled her lungs. _Perhaps this place has changed me, dissolved the distance between my species and humans. Or maybe it was love. A second chance to follow my heart, _T'Pol pondered as she wandered toward the door of the city.

T'Pol walked to the nearest transporter and pushed the screen for the infirmary level. As she neared the hospital wing, she felt the anticipation to see her son growing like a knot inside her body. She felt awkward around the baby and yet Trip seemed perfectly at ease. Her reaction to Jonathan was the exact opposite from Elizabeth. Their situations were completely different. T'Pol and Trip were thrown into Elizabeth's life near the end, their time limited and their emotions high. T'Pol had seven months to think about Jonathan's arrival. Trip had less, but that didn't stop him from wanting to protect Jonathan or love him.

Trip was used to family life, where T'Pol was not. Trip grew up with a brother and sister and an extended family. T'Pol was an only child with a few playmates. Their upbringing vastly contrasted each other and somehow they would need to find a balance in order to raise their son. Living on Atlantis and having contact with the children of New Athos gave T'Pol a new perspective on letting a child be a child… with limits, of course.

T'Pol walked through the doorway of the Infirmary and her eyes zeroed in on the area of the crib. _Someone is standing there, _she thought as she unconsciously quickened her step. It was illogical to be worried. The city was filled with military and considered a secure facility, the infirmary was manned twenty six/seven and only a specific list of personnel could get anywhere near her son.

"Dr. McKay," T'Pol said aloud as she took the final steps to the crib.

"Oh, hi," Rodney replied with a jump, completely startled. "I was ah… just looking," he added sheepishly.

T'Pol arched her brow at him, quietly observing the crimson glow on his face. A gamut of responses flew through her head, but she tactfully picked only one. "You may hold him," she remarked in a friendly voice.

"Ah, I don't need to. I might, you know, do something wrong and then he would start crying and it's late," Rodney rambled watching as she stepped around him and picked the child up from the crib. "It's really late and if he starts crying people might wake up. What are you doing?" he blurted out as she turned to him with the baby in her hands.

"Sit," T'Pol said motioning to the chair. She watched McKay obediently follow her direction and plop down. She stepped in front of him and transferred the child from her arms to his and then pulled over another chair to sit next to the two.

"He's so little," McKay whispered practically holding his breath.

"He is five pounds and you will not break him," T'Pol remarked running her palm over Jonathan's head just as the infant opened his eyes.

"Ah, maybe you should," Rodney muttered nervously when he thought the baby was about to cry.

"Rodney, you are fine," T'Pol began to say as he cut her off.

"I might drop him," he blurted out trying to offer the child back to T'Pol.

"Rodney, have you ever dropped your laptop?" T'Pol asked laying her hand on his shoulder.

"No," Rodney replied slowly.

"Then why would you drop my son?"

"Well, he's kicking and squirming," Rodney rebutted.

T'Pol looked down at Jonathan as he lay quietly in Rodney's arms. At best he was gazing around the dimly lit room trying to focus on the blur in front of him. Kicking and squirming he was not. To appease the doctor, T'Pol ran her hand over the baby's head and watched in amusement as he strained to look back at her, recognizing her touch immediately.

"Here, just please take him," Rodney said with a strained tone in his voice. T'Pol finally agreed and scooped the child from his arms. McKay watched in awe as the baby settled against his mother as if he was an extension of her. "He's smiling."

"Doubtful. Major Mackenzie fed him a few hours ago. He probably needs to burp," T'Pol replied rocking the child and running her hand gently over his back to coax the bubbles out of his stomach. "At this stage of his development he is just starting to recognize touch and smells."

"Yeah, ah … so you're leaving tomorrow," Rodney muttered changing the subject. "Are you all packed?"

"Yes."

"Any regrets?" he asked tentatively.

T'Pol looked over at the scientist and sized him up. This man had a plethora of faces. He was one of the few people that befriended her from the start and at times he was her arch nemesis. "I have no regrets," she answered quietly.

"None?"

"No."

"Ah, ugh... okay, well you have my email address right?" Rodney asked jumping out of the chair.

'Yes Rodney. I will continue to email the results of my study as we agreed," T'Pol replied firmly.

"I was just chec…."

"Rodney, nothing has changed," T'Pol reminded him firmly. "I will continue to support the mission from SGC. The only reason I am moving to Earth is because of Jonathan."

"Right," Rodney replied nodding his head. "It's safer for you. Well, I ah … I will miss you," he muttered nervously.

"We will still converse on email," T'Pol added.

"Yeah, well I realize that email in the twenty second century is a live video feed that can stretch thousands of light years but here it is a letter or sometimes just a few miserable words, which is hardly the same as sharing a cup of coffee at lunch," Rodney replied a little loud. He immediately lowered his tone when Jonathan began to whimper. "Sorry," he apologized.

"We will keep in touch and see each other again," T'Pol told him quietly. "I'm moving to Earth not a different galaxy."

"Yeah, well AG-1 is leaving to a recon mission first thing in the morning … looking for the Athosians, so ummm, bye," he stammered uncomfortably. "See you around," Rodney added waving at her and then darting out of the infirmary.

T'Pol watched him leave and then looked down at Lil'Jon. "This is an eclectic group," she said warmly. "Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky that you will grow up on earth around normal people."

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thanks to my beta Deb for tweeking the chapter and make it all pretty.

Chapter 15

John Sheppard sighed and walked toward the back of the jumper with a dejected expression on his face. The reconnaissance mission to gather intelligence on the Athosians had been a bust. Nobody knew anything, no one was talking about anything and everyone, in Sheppard's opinion, seemed suspiciously cautious. _For today, _he reminded himself sharply. _It's only been a day; it took the Colt's all season to win the Superbowl. _John had barely cleared the lift gate of the jumper when Chuck's voice blasted over the city-wide intercom.

"Colonel Sheppard, please report to the control room immediately!"

"Geezus, can't a guy get a moment alone?" Sheppard muttered as he walked slowly toward the top of the stairs. "What is it Chuck?" he asked over the airwaves.

"Colonel Carter needs to speak to you sir," Chuck replied curtly. "We have a situation."

_What else is new? _John thought as he started to descend the stairs. He didn't run or even hasten his step, because, well frankly he didn't want too. The stress of the past day had taken its toll on him and for the first time in a long time, John felt really tired. _Maybe Joes and I need big bowl of popcorn and a football game, _he thought as his foot hit the bottom step. He glanced to the left into Carter's office and immediately felt his stomach twist into a knot. _Oh crap, _he mused as he took a head count. Carter, Edwards, Jones, and Lorne were all standing around with a look of doom on their faces.

"You wanted to see me?" John asked plastering a hopeful expression on his face. He unclipped his P-90 and set it down on Carter's desk as she handed him a tablet.

"When I got back from lunch today, I found this on my desk," she said pointing at the screen.

John scanned the message in front of him and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "I respectfully submit my resignation from the United States Marine Corps? Is this a joke?" he asked looking back at Sam with wild eyes.

"I wish it were," Sam replied. "I haven't been able to talk to her yet."

"I saw her in the gear room three hours ago and she handed me these, sir," Captain Jones said pulling his hand from the pocket of his BDU's. He took a step toward the desk and dropped two oak leaf insignias on the top of it. "She said I was made of stronger stuff than she and I'd be better suited to have them."

"What?" Sheppard stammered in shock. "Something happen on your mission this morning?"

"No sir," Jones replied. "Everything was routine and as for her mood, she seemed fine to me."

"Has anyone seen her? Talked to her?" he asked loudly getting more agitated about the situation by the second. Kirstin had been guarded about the Athosians and they had talked about it for most of the night. _She seemed okay at breakfast….I should have known better to think she was okay, _he thought mentally kicking himself in the shins.

"She's not answering the radio," Lorne said flatly. "I sent Jeeter and a search party out to find her.

"Geezus," John mumbled activating the radio from his earwig. "Sheppard to Mackenzie respond!" he demanded into the radio. The room fell silent as they waited for her to answer. "Major Mackenzie this is Colonel Sheppard, come in."

"She's not going to answer. She ditched the radio," said a breathless Jeeter as he jogged into Carter's office. He held out some radio gear in his hand. "One of my guys found it by the science lab on level six. If I'm not mistaken this is her hair," he reported pointing to the reddish-blonde strand dangling from the wire.

"How long was she off the grid yesterday before you found her?" Sheppard asked Lorne as he tossed the tablet on the desk.

"An hour, hour twenty," Jeeter answered.

"What about her transponder?" Edwards quietly piped in.

"She's masking it somehow," Jeeter remarked. "Zelenka and McKay are trying to modify the scanners as we speak."

John paced around the office with his head tilted in thought. "Have you?" he pointed at Carter and the tablet.

"No," Carter replied knowing exactly what he was asking. "I couldn't anyway. She can't resign under her current contract."

"Unless she is medically discharged," Edwards said cutting her off. The comment got him an icy glare from Sheppard.

"She's not resigning and she doesn't need to be medically discharged," John replied tersely. "She's just … feeling a little lost right now. I'll find her," he said walking quickly to the rear door of the office. "Lorne, Jeet, Jonesy you're with me."

* * *

"Come on McKay, hurry up," John cursed tersely as he paced around McKay's lab.

"Well, excuse me! She's a damn scientist! She isn't making this easy, she probably knows how to mask these things better than the manufacturer!" McKay grumbled over his shoulder. "Why don't you just call her on the radio?"

"Duh! Why didn't we think of that?" Jeeter replied sarcastically. He slapped McKay up the backside of his head. "She isn't wearing a radio."

"Hey!" McKay yelped as he jumped from the contact. "I thought it was SOP for all you military types to have it on at all times."

"She took it off," Lorne informed him.

"Why'd she do that?"

"Why don't you ask her the next time you see her?" Jeeter growled pacing the opposite direction from Sheppard.

"She turned in her resignation," Jones remarked solemnly.

"What?" Rodney nearly choked.

"She quit?" Zelenka muttered from the other side of the desk. "She was just up here. She didn't say anything about quitting."

"She was up here?" Sheppard repeated as he turned around on his heel. "When?"

"About two hours ago," Radac replied nervously.

"Why was she up here?" Jeeter asked stepping closer to the desk. "Was that before or after I came through looking for her?"

"After," McKay replied.

"And you didn't call me?" Jeeter yelled, very loudly.

"Hey! I'm not a babysitter," McKay grumbled.

"Thank god for that," Jeeter retorted.

"Drop it!" Sheppard's voice commanded with his cold pissed off tone. "What was she doing up here Rodney?"

"She was asking about her spot on the team and if she could take T'Pol's place," Rodney said turning around on the stool. "I didn't understand the point. She's already part of the science team. Why would taking T'Pol's spot be any different?"

"T'Pol doesn't go off world," Jones concluded aloud.

"That's not true," Radac replied. "T'Pol did go off world when she first got here. It was only near the end of her pregnancy that she chose to stay on base."

"Like I said, it doesn't make sense," McKay repeated.

"No, it does make sense. She wants to quit the military but not leave the base," John said shooting a knowing glare in Lorne's direction.

"Like she is scared to go off base," Jeeter remarked.

"Or feels guilty about Athosians," Lorne muttered thoughtfully.

"Why would she feel guilty about the Athosians?" Both Radac and McKay questioned at the same time

"She flew the dart there when she and I escaped from Michael," Lorne remarked shrugging his shoulders.

"The only gate address she knew from memory," Sheppard said looking at Jeeter for confirmation. "Maybe she thinks she led Michael there."

"That's impossible!" McKay yelled. "The Athosians have gate access and go off world nearly every day. Who's to say they didn't stir up their own trouble."

"No one is saying that McKay," Jeeter argued. "We're just trying to figure out what is up with the Major."

"I'll tell you what's up with her," McKay mumbled under his breath. "Her brains are scrambled, that's what ….Ow!" he cried out as Sheppard gave him a head slap. "You do realize that repeated blunt head trauma could cause a concussion or cerebral hemorrhage!"

"I'll give you some cerebral hemorrhage if you don't shut up," Jeeter growled from the side of the room. Captain Jones sensed a fight and stepped in front of him to block Jeeter's path

"I'm picking up something," Radac blurted out to distract the four officers about to pounce on Rodney and his big mouth.

"What?" Sheppard asked glaring in Rodney's direction.

"Oh my," Zelenka mumbled. "That's really high!"

* * *

_Mac you are so friggen stupid, _Kirstin chided herself as she wrapped her arms around her legs. She could feel her knees knocking and her hands trembling and her heart thudding wildly in her chest. She was so scared she could barely move. It had been a piece of cake climbing out here. "Now how the hell am I going to get down?" she asked aloud challenging herself to find a way.

Kirstin peered over the edge and looked down the side of the tower. "Geezus," she whispered as she sat upright and pressed her back against the wall. It was a good three, maybe four hundred foot drop to the water. The ledge she was sitting on was about four feet wide and circled the top of the East Pier tower. _Its mind over matter, _she reminded herself. _You dreamt about this for months …. and now you're here. You're strong. You can get back on your own. Alone. _A strong gust of wind hit her in the face and she felt the resistance against her small frame. "Maybe I just need to think about that for a while," she said quietly.

As stupid of an idea that it was, Kirstin felt exhilarated. She had thought about doing this for months … challenging herself mentally to break her fear of heights. Of course, the practical thing would have been to climb a rock face on the main land or maybe even one of the shorter towers closer to the control room, but when had Kirstin ever done anything practical? The old Kirstin that is … maybe making love to John jump started the _ole recklessness _in her.

_Last night was … _Kirstin shuddered as a pleasure chill shot through her soul. _Wow! _She smiled smugly at the thought of her connection with him. She could think of a thousand corny clichés about the emotions churning inside, but nothing summed it up better than …wow! Of course, wow wasn't going to do anything to get her out of her current predicament … which was a lot more than just hanging out on the side of the tower.

"Stupid," Mackenzie muttered under her breath as she knocked her head against the side of the tower. Only wimps quit. _Weaklings, feeble minded frail punks, pathetic scaredy-cats! _Kirstin berated herself. "What the frig was I thinking? That's just it! I wasn't thinking, I let my emotions get the best of me," she said frankly. "Way stupid Mackenzie. Fire off an email to the boss two seconds after one of your dumb ass Army Ranger teammates makes some stupid ass remark about the Athosians!" she growled getting emotional as every word left her mouth.

Kirstin buried her head against her knees. She felt the excitement and thrill of her little adventure drain from her veins as the tears rolled down her cheeks. _The Athosians … Halling, Jinto, Jevon, Pela. _The names and faces of the villagers and her friends flashed through her mind like a slide show. _Don't get too close to Mackenzie, because you'll end up dead, _she thought as she sobbed uncontrollably into her sleeve.

* * *

Trip cradled his son in his arms and eavesdropped on Bowyer's and Narula's conversation regarding Jonathan's treatment once they gated back to Earth. The conversation droned on in the background as Lil'Jon wrapped his hand around Trip's finger and squeezed it for dear life.

"Hey lil one," Trip said looking down at him as the child demanded his attention. "What are you all impatient about?"

"His bottle," T'Pol remarked walking toward the two. "He is quite impatient when it's time to be fed." She positioned the bottle against the baby's lips and watched with appreciation as he eagerly sucked it in. "As you can see," she muttered as Trip took hold of the bottle and T'Pol sat down in the opposite chair.

"I guess," Trip said watching Jonathan with a huge smile on his face. "I might have to take a second job as a Walmart greeter just to afford to feed this lil guy."

"Perhaps you should install a protein re-sequencer in our kitchen," she ventured quietly.

"Oh no," Trip remarked looking up at her. "No fake food in our house. McDonalds is the cut-off line." He watched T'Pol make a face of disgust and started to laugh. "We're not raising him a vegetarian T'Pol."

"He will not be eating McDonald's hamburgers either," she remarked flatly.

"Babe, they're not even real meat," Trip argued. "They're soybean burgers. You of all people should be into soybeans." He gave her an innocent smile.

"I have tried tofu as your species call it," T'Pol said shuddering at the thought of it. "It was disgusting."

"Where did you eat it?" Trip questioned her.

"Here on the base."

"Yuck," Trip muttered shaking his head. "I'd hardly call anything they made in the mess hall real food. You just need a good dose of my cooking,"

"You actually cook?" T'Pol questioned him with an arched brow.

"Heck yeah I cook! I'm my momma's son," Trip replied with a sparkling grin on his face. "There's a lot about me you don't know," he added quietly.

"I will have a life time to discover all your secrets," T'Pol informed him.

"Considering that you and Lil'Jon will out live me two fold, you might not have a chance to figure them all out," Trip said looking up in her direction. He noticed movement at the end of the infirmary and sighed dejectedly. "Your boyfriend is here," he muttered. He set the bottle down and pulled the baby up on his shoulder to burp him.

T'Pol didn't move. She knew Trip was referring to Ronon, what she wasn't sure was the extent of his awareness of their relationship. "He is hardly my boyfriend," she replied coolly.

"I'm not blind T'Pol. The guy is around you all the time, its clear he's interested," Trip replied.

"I have told you, Ronon and I are simply friends, nothing more," T'Pol replied curtly.

"I'm just saying…"

"You're jealous," she informed him with a scowl on her face. "I have pledged my love to you and yet you are jealous of what might have been if you had not been around." T'Pol stood from the chair.

"What might have been?" Trip guffawed just as the baby belched in his ear. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," T'Pol said as Ronon walked up behind her.

"Ready for your final decent workout?" Ronon asked innocently. After no one said anything for a moment Ronon cleared his throat. "Did I interrupt something?

"No," T'Pol replied crisply. "Trip was being unreasonable and I am over it," she said flatly as she walked past Ronon and headed out of the room. Ronon shrugged his shoulders and followed her in silence.

"Did she sleep with him?" he muttered under his breath in the baby's ear. He settled Jon back into his arms. He looked at the child, who was staring up at him with wide eyes. "You'd tell me if she did, wouldn't you? Of course you wouldn't," Trip mumbled aloud. "You'd defend your mother at all costs wouldn't you? Even when your father is acting all delusional and crazy."

* * *

"Respectfully sir," Jeeter practically yelled at Sheppard. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to climb the side of the tower without a safety line. We have no idea what kind of mood the Major is in. She might be fine and is just sitting out there taking in the sights like she does on the pier or she could be waiting for the right incentive to fling herself over the edge. Whatever the case sir, you're not superman…."

"Relax Major," Sheppard interrupted Jeeter's emotional plea. "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. Falling off that ledge would really ruin my day." He turned to let Captain Jones and another ranger secure the safety line to his torso and activated the radio. "Lorne what's your status?"

"In position sir," Lorne replied. "About thirty feet from the tower."

"Does she know you're there?" Sheppard asked.

"Negative. She's pressed against the tower with her head resting on her knees," Lorne said. "She hasn't moved at all."

John exhaled loudly and walked over to the railing of the balcony. He leaned on Jones' shoulder and stepped up onto the rail. He looked up the side of the tower and checked out the footholds. The ledge was two floors up and looked like an easy enough climb. _Going up, at least, _he thought. _She probably got up there and then realized it wasn't going to be so easy to just climb back down. At least I have the safety line. _The thought brought little comfort to him as he looked down the tower. He would have about twenty feet of slack before catching and then would be dangling until the jumper could get into position to scoop them up.

"Okay, here's goes nothing," John muttered as he pulled on his safety rigging.

* * *

Kirstin lifted her head and stared out across the horizon. "I'm totally screwed!" she yelled into the wind. "I can't stay up here all day. I'm freezing and geezus … I have to go to the bathroom!" She bounced her head off the side of the tower again berating herself for her recklessness. Kirstin closed her eyes as a memory flooded her thoughts. Sitting on the highest perch and suffering the consequences of not being able to get down was a common theme. _Just like when I climbed the tree in the front yard after mom died_, she thought. She could almost hear her father's voice yelling at her from the ground. _Almost, _she reminded herself.

"Kirstin."

Mac nearly jumped out of her skin as the voice reverberated in the wind. She looked up into the warm, yet concerned, face of her boyfriend. "John?" she stammered in shock. _How many times did he say that before it registered? _she wondered as her face flushed from embarrassment.

"Yeah," he replied looking down at her. "What'cha doing up here?"

_Here he is on his white horse again, _she thought before answering. As much as she was glad to see him, she wasn't that glad. "Nothing," Kirstin remarked suddenly feeling a rush of both relief and anger at his presence. "I'm just thinking." She turned her head and looked straight out at the horizon.

"Huh," John muttered squatting down to her level. "You know for someone that doesn't like heights, you certainly picked the most unsafe place in the city."

_There's that tone,_ Kirstin noted getting more pissed about him being there by the second. _Why can't he just help me down and let the rest of it go? _ "I'm not going to jump if that's what you're wondering," she replied caustically.

"Well, that's good to know," he replied leaning over to look down the side of the tower. "Because that would be a good three hundred foot drop and the likelihood that you would survive the fall is probably two percent." He looked over at Kirstin and shrugged his shoulders. "Of course nearly every bone in your body would be broken and you'd probably spend the rest of your life in a coma."

Kirstin pursed her lips at his little lecture. "Yeah, well at least I wouldn't feel anything," she muttered not looking at John.

"You don't know that. People in coma's might feel a lot and just aren't able to communicate," Sheppard replied softly. He watched her carefully as tears brimmed in her eyes. "Something you want to talk about?"

Kirstin sniffled and tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. "It's my fault," she mumbled looking out at the water.

"What is?"

"The Athosians," she said crossing her arms on her knees and resting her chin on them. "I gave Michael their gate address."

"Kirstin."

Mac was suddenly very mad. The inflection of Sheppard's voice reminded her of Michael's ever so slightly. "Don't Kirstin me!" she snapped. "I led Michael and his goons there! I dialed the gate address when Lorne and I were escaping from Michael!" Kirstin jumped to her feet in a nano-second. Her mood had completely flipped and John's calm cool demeanor wasn't helping anything.

John kept his movements slow and calculated to not upset her further. "Mac, you're not responsible. The Athosians go off world all the time. They could have drummed up their own attention," he replied unconvincingly as he stood up to face her.

"I dialed the gate address!" she yelled backing up from him. She could feel her face flush red and the burn from her scar begin to crawl across her face.

"You dialed the gate address," John repeated. "The other dart followed you through."

"No!" Mac replied shaking her head. "'I've flown the second jumper through the gate, the address was transmitted to my HUD!"

"That's the way the ancient system was set up Mac," John said calmly. "There is no proof the darts work the same way. I've never seen it and I've flown the darts plenty of times. The ship goes into auto pilot mode whenever they approach a ship or an activated gate. Only one dart needs the gate address," he explained. "Besides, the gate deactivated as soon as the second dart cleared it and then Athosians dialed Atlantis for help."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," Kirstin said backing away from him.

John snagged her arm before she could step off the side of the ledge. "I'm not just saying it to make you feel better Kirstin. The other dart didn't have time to send a transmission back to …. wherever," he said firmly. "Plus Jones and his team blew the dart to smithereens."

"There's isn't any proof the other dart didn't send a message," Kirstin argued pulling out of his grasp. She crossed her arms at her chest defiantly.

"And there isn't any proof that it did," John countered.

"Right," Kirstin said slowly glaring in his direction. "So the Athosians disappearance is just coincidence?"

"Yes."

Kirstin stared John down for a moment trying to read his face. It was a blank slate. _Which is why he is so good at leading the military, _she told herself as she quickly compared her career path to his. _I wear my emotions on my sleeve and he is the king of the poker table._ "You'll never convince me of that," she replied tersely.

"Mac," John started to reply when she cut him off.

"No John!" she screamed shaking her head. She dropped her arms to her side and could feel her whole body trembling. "I'm responsible for their disappearance. Me! I led Michael there. No one knew about New Athos until I flew the dart there. And I ended up on that planet because New Athos was the only gate address I knew. So it's my fault!"

"You want to talk about blame? Fine. Ultimately, it's my responsibility they are missing," John yelled back in her face.

"Why? Because you're the military leader of Atlantis?" Kirstin questioned sarcastically. "The Athosian's aren't children….."

"No! I gave the order to create Michael," John replied loudly pointing a finger right at her chest. "And before that, I woke up the Wraith!"

"What?" Kirstin asked back peddling a bit. "What are you talking about?" she asked completely confused. "You woke them up?"

"You've read intelligence on their hibernation cycles," John said resting his hands on his hips. "When the expedition started and we first arrived on Atlantis, the city was sitting at the bottom of the ocean and in danger. A recon team gated to the first address McKay could find in the Ancient database, the Athosian home world. We weren't there a day when the Wraith showed up. Four darts. We destroyed two of them and two managed to escape, but not before taking some of our people, Halling, Teyla, _Captain Jeeter, _a couple of other marines and the military leader of Atlantis."

"You?"

"No, I wasn't the leader then," John chuckled ruefully at the memory. "I was ah, just along for the ride. The leader was a Marine, Colonel Sumner. It took me two days to mount a rescue mission. When I found Sumner, the Wraith Queen was feeding on him. In order to save his life, I had to kill him and then I killed the Queen," John shook his head and looked Kirstin in the eye. "In doing so, I woke the Wraith up. All of them, thousands of them.' He paused for a moment and tilted his head to make his point. "I could have gone back to Earth with my tail between my legs back then for screwing up but I didn't. I've spent everyday since then trying to protect people in this galaxy and make it right. I don't back down from a fight. I don't quit."

"You think I am?" Kirstin stammered in shock. She was falling for the _you're not responsible _bull that he was spewing. She didn't appreciate the slap in the face from him.

"You resigned today," John said matter-of-factly.

"You…." Kirstin shook her head in disbelief. "For someone who thinks they know me so well, you really have no fricken idea!"

"Oh I know Mac!" he informed her bluntly. "Survivors guilt …. I've got your number."

"Sa … wha?" she coughed staring at him. "That's not why I did it! Like I said you have no clue about me do you?"

"Why don't you enlighten me then?"

"Why don't I have my own team?"

Now it was John's turn to be shocked. "What?" he asked completely caught off guard.

"I'm the only major on this base without my own team!" Kirstin yelled at him. "At first I thought it was a Marine thing, then I thought it was a female thing… but now … I've heard the scuttlebutt in the gear room … now I know it's just a Mackenzie thing!"

"Mac, you're not the only major on the base without a team," Shepard replied bringing his tone to a conversational level.

"Oh, right … Jeeter's technically on Lorne's team except when he's on his own team and Jonah is on Myers team unless he's out with his own team and the only team I'm on is Jones' team!" Kirstin said loudly. "And the frakked up thing about that is Jones is a Captain … so I out rank him and he's my team lead. And ultimate insult? He isn't just any captain, he's an _army captain_. I'm a Marine Major reporting to an Army Captain! So what the frak am I supposed to think about that? Huh? I'm not the team lead!" she exclaimed waving her arms around to make her point. Her movements were overly animated and she was ranting so quickly she hardly made any sense.

"But why would I be the team lead? Scuttlebutt thinks I'm a fricken lunatic and the rangers all wonder why I'm allowed to even carry a gun and then god knows what crap and lies Schmitt, Kavan and Alvarez spread about me when they were on the base!" Kirstin threw her hands up in frustration and turned her back to him. "Everyone already seems to think I slept my way to my oak leaves in Starfleet!" She spun around on her heel to face him. "Is that why I don't have my own team Colonel? Because we're fucking?"

Sheppard was instantly pissed off and dropped his voice to his signature cool low tone. "Do not drag our personal relationship into this Kirstin," he said caustically.

"You're the military leader of this base John! How can I not connect the two?" Kirstin barked getting mad with herself because she could feel tears running down her face. "You expect me to believe you have no say in my career? You should be thankful that I quit! It makes it easier for us to be together now. Less complicated."

"You report to Colonel Carter and Major Lorne," he said flatly. "And yes, I have some say in decisions regarding your career but the majority of those decisions are out of my hands. In fact, they are out of the Colonel's hands as well," he informed her.

"Whose hands are they in, SIR?" Kirstin asked in a mocking tone. "Don't even try to tell me Commander Doyle, because like you … he can't find the balance between brotherly love and business decisions."

"No Kirstin, those decisions are squarely within your control," John replied. His voice was riddled with anger but his face was a blank slate. "You control your own destiny. Don't think we haven't considered giving you your own team. The conversation has come up more than once, but every time we think you're ready some tragedy happens and you pull some shit exactly like this … where you act like the victim and then we have to start all over again."

"So this is my fault?" Kirstin guffawed with an incredulous expression on her face. "I'm holding myself back? That the biggest load of crap I've ever heard!" Kirstin turned from him and paced across the ledge. "Before I was stranded in this shit hole I commanded a strike team…."

"I've heard it all before Major!" Sheppard retorted cutting her off. "I know every detail regarding your military record and I don't need you breaking it down or shoving it in my face every time something doesn't go your way! And while we're on the topic, you can't just quit Mackenzie! Maybe you can just walk out on your responsibility in your century, but things are a little different here. You signed a thirty six month contract with the Marine Corps Major. You're legally obligated to complete the remaining thirty one months, unless you want to take the coward's way out and request a medical discharge!"

His tirade was crisp and to the point. The words hung in the air between them and zapped Kirstin right where it hurt the most. What had started out as a conversation between lovers, quickly morphed into a pseudo dress-down by her senior officer and left Kirstin numb and speechless. She didn't even know what to say in response to him. John had walked right into her face during his ranting and Mackenzie's personal space seemed compromised. Despite being in the outdoors and at the top of the proverbial world, she felt the suffocating effects of a panic attack overtaking her.

Kirstin swallowed hard. She was pissed. _He has no fricken right to call me out! _She quickly formulated a rebuttal. A thousand responses cascaded through her mind as she took a few steps back from him. Three steps back until she could pounce forward and defend herself.

* * *

_Why can't I just let it go? _Trip thought as he walked toward Colonel Sheppard's office. _I've been with other women since…I just haven't been with anyone since we crash-landed here like she has, _he grumbled as he walked into the office and paced around the desk. He walked to the window and flipped open the blinds. Trip leaned his head against the glass and closed his eyes. _T'Pol's right, she's sworn her love to me in more ways then one and I'm drowning in the dumbass pit. What the frick is my problem? I'm a dork about the baby and then I'm one huge green jealous prick about her? _

"T'Pol to Commander Doyle."

The words crackled over his earpiece and caught him off guard. "Go ahead," he replied cringing at the sound of her voice.

"I thought you were joining me for lunch," she stated crisply over the airwaves.

Trip exhaled loudly and looked at his watch. It _was _definitely that time but he wasn't so sure he wanted to eat with her. What he really wanted to do was stew about why he was being a moron alone. He knew she would never have it though. If he didn't show up in the mess hall post haste, she would come and find him and that would lead to another ugly confrontation about _things. _"I'm on my way," Trip replied hesitantly.

"I will wait," T'Pol answered cutting the comm link.

Trip turned from the window and headed out the door. He had barely taken four steps from the office when he came face to face with his arch nemesis Ronon. _Oh shit, _he thought as his brain scrambled to think if there was another way to the mess hall. _Forget it, this place is a maze, I'd probably get lost and no one would find me for days, _he thought sucking in some air.

"Commander Doyle," Ronon greeted him in a friendly enough voice.

"Ronon," Trip replied nodding his head to be polite. He kept walking the opposite direction. He practically wanted to run, but he kept his head. _Geezus Trip you're not ten years old anymore, _he scolded himself.

"She's in love with you, you know," Ronon's voice boomed at him from behind.

"What?" Trip said as he stopped walking and turned around. "Excuse me?"

"T'Pol….she loves you," Ronon repeated as he stood several feet away. "She always has."

Trip nodded his head and ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "She told you that?"

"Not in so many words. We _linked," _the big man explained.

"You linked with her!" Trip practically shouted. "Then you are sleeping together!"

"No," Ronon started to respond before Trip cut him off.

"I'm not stupid. I've been in love with the woman for the past ten years. The only way you can _link_ is to be having more than a casual relationship with her!" He ranted. He was completely shouting now. His voice was riddled with anger and jealousy.

Ronon paused a moment before responding. "I'm not _sleeping _with her now. She and I haven't been intimate for weeks. We're friends."

"Friends? Friends that sleep together you mean," Trip smarted back. He paced around the hallway with his hands on his hips.

"I just helped T'Pol when she needed some relief during the last part of her pregnancy, that's all," Ronon said crossing his arms at his chest. "You weren't available because you were on Earth and she didn't feel like she could ask you because the two of you hadn't worked things out yet."

Trip stared at the man and contemplated his words. It was probably true, not that it made him feel any better. He and T'Pol _had_ just worked out their relationship, although it was far from perfect. If she needed some relief before hand … _shit, I jerked off in the shower, _he tried to rationalize it in his head.

"Like I said, she loves you. There isn't another for her," Ronon said when the silence became uncomfortable between them. He stepped closer to the commander and backed him into the wall. "But know this … I care about her and if you do anything to screw this up for her … you'll have to answer to me," he growled in Trip's ear. Then he turned and walked down the hall.

Trip blinked and noticed that his hands were shaking a bit. Ronon was a big guy and his voice had that intimidating edge about it that could cause anybody to freak a bit. One thing was for sure, Trip had no intention of screwing things up between him and T'Pol before this little conversation and come hell or high water he wasn't going to now. Ronon could probably break him in half just by staring at him long enough.

"Crap," Trip mumbled as he started to slowly walk to the mess hall. "That's what I get to look forward to in life? A kid that eats me out of house and home and a woman whose lover has threatened to beat me to a pulp? Yep, love makes ya crazy."

* * *

Love does funny things to a person in a given scenario. An argument between significant others can open the proverbial can of worm. The simple act of letting off some steam creates a geyser of emotions that flares like a torch across the sea. All the reasons a person loves another and the little things that get under the skin become magnified to the extreme. That was the result John Sheppard was going for in his approach to Kirstin Mackenzie's survivor's guilt … an attempt to push her to the brink and let the feelings go in one catastrophic explosion. He got what he wanted in more ways than one.

Sheppard's verbal attack landed him right in Mackenzie's face, compromising her personal bubble. Her reaction was exactly what he was going for … the icy cool glare that revealed a fire waiting to erupt. He could see the emotion building in her face, the tension of her jaw as the she gritted her teeth and her muscles trembled in anger. He had pushed her to the limit and waited smugly for her retaliatory attack. He watched in amusement as Kirstin backed up to regain her composure and that is when all hell hit the fan.

The stunned expression on her face as she planted her foot firmly into air and her immediate descent into nothing was a fleeting reminder to John he could never take anything for granted with her. Ever agile, he lunged for Kirstin just as a piercing scream nearly burst his eardrum. He snagged her at the waist but her downward momentum took them both over the edge. Their uncoordinated free fall until the safety line caught shook them both to the core. John struggled to keep his hold on Mackenzie as she squirmed in his grip and begged him not to lose his grasp on her.

John leaned against the balcony bracing and exhaled slowly. It had been five hours since he and Kirstin took the plunge off the side of the tower. As relieved as she was that he was there to save her, she was completely _pissed_ that their entire conversation was being monitored by Colonel Carter and Captain Edwards. When one would think she would be happy that she only dangled against the tower for a couple of minutes before the jumper decloaked and scooped her up, she was livid that he didn't believe that she hadn't climbed up there to jump to her death in the first place. John rubbed his hand over the side of his face and was certain he could still feel the sting of her palm making contact with it as she told him in no uncertain terms to get the hell away from her. All the reasons he should be equally mad at her and more, he could do nothing but be more in love with her. Those were all the reasons he fell for her in the beginning and loved her to this moment. Her unpredictable, impractical moods just added spice to the relationship.

_If we still have a relationship, _John thought walking back into his room. He rolled onto the bed and stared blindly at the ceiling. _A good fight keeps the relationship fresh doesn't it? _"Or is that why I always suck at relationships?" John muttered aloud to the emptiness of the room.

* * *

Kirstin stared at the moonlight as she sat on the futon in her room. She was feeling a little humbled by the day's events. A few hours ago someone would be hard pressed to convince her that she could have a worse day than yesterday. Today was probably one of the worst in her life. _Today ranks right up there with finding out about Dad, Ryan and Cory_, she thought throwing a pillow at the wall. However, unlike losing the members of her family to a horrible tragedy or finding out that her friends on New Athos were missing and probably abducted by a monster, everything that happened to her today was completely within her control. _Or my lack of control, _she reminded herself. For once someone, besides her father, knew her and understood her better than herself. John was right when he said she controlled her own destiny and today she managed to make a complete mess of it.

The chime at the door pulled her from her reverie and Kirstin pushed herself off the futon to answer it. Part of her wanted it to be John on the other side of the entry, but the stubborn part wasn't ready to give in to him just yet. _As if that was all it would take, _Kirstin sharply reminded herself. It wasn't like she didn't slap him across the face today, verbally when she drug their personal relationship into the middle of her career failings or physically when he turned her over to the SF's in the jumper bay to be taken to the infirmary for a psych evaluation. To top it all off, she did it, not once but twice, in front of god and everybody which included her commanding officer, over an open comm line and in the jumper bay. _Classy, _she laughed half heartedly as she waved her hand over the sensor that opened the door. She held her breath as it slid open, only to find Trip with the baby standing on the other side.

"Hey, come in," Kirstin said taking Jonathan out of his hands as he walked past her. She nuzzled the baby against her neck as she walked back into the room. "Where's T'Pol?" She asked looking back at him. Trip was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that accented his muscle tone perfectly.

"Ah, she's ah…" Trip stammered sitting down on the futon.

"Are you guys fighting?" Kirstin asked sitting across from him on the bed.

"Sort of," Trip conceded leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "She informed me that I was jealous."

"Of?" Kirstin prompted.

"Ronon."

"Ronon? You're jealous of Ronon?"

"I guess," Trip said rubbing his hands together.

"You don't know?"

"It's obvious that he's interested in her," Trip said looking at the floor. "And he admitted to me that something was going on between them recently."

"He told you that?" Kirstin questioned. "When?"

"Today. He cornered me in the hallway and told me that if I screwed things up for T'Pol he'd beat me to a pulp," Trip chuckled.

"Hmm."

"What's that's supposed to mean?"

"You better watch yourself," Kirstin said flatly. "He could probably kill you with his thumb."

"Lovely," Trip remarked. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. So obviously you've known about this," he added looking over at her. He caught her twisting her lips in thought. "Kirstin."

"It's not really a base secret," she said.

"And you didn't tell me?" Trip half yelled.

"Tell you? What was I supposed to tell you?" Kirstin replied.

"You're like my sister. My ally," Trip countered.

"Sister yes, nark no," Kirstin retorted. "T'Pol is my friend. I'm not going to pick sides with the two of you. I don't understand why you're sweating it, it wasn't really a big deal. It was a fling."

"I know I'm over reacting," Trip remarked standing up. He stepped closer to the balcony door. "I just want to know why she didn't call me. I've told her a hundred times that I'm completely committed to her and this baby."

"Trip, be reasonable," Kirstin laughed. "What was she going to say … hey, umm can you come back to Atlantis because I'm horny?" Kirstin laid the baby on the bed and started to rub his feet. "You two could barely talk back then and for that matter you barely talk now!"

"Okay, when you put it like that," Trip said ruefully turning to face her. "Why Ronon?"

"You should be thankful it was Ronon. He's probably one of the only guys on the base that respects her for the woman that she is and doesn't sensationalize the "alien" thing," Kirstin explained making quotation marks with her fingers. "And he isn't into lasting relationships … well, I mean friendships are one thing, but he's always known T'Pol's feelings for you and didn't expect anything more out of _it." _

"So basically I'm just being a jealous idiot," Trip summarized shoving his hands in his jeans pocket.

"Yeah, in a nut shell," Kirstin said agreeing with him.

He nodded slowly and ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek. "So, then what's your excuse?" he prodded her cautiously.

Kirstin laughed. "I'm ah … an idiot too. Guess that's why we get along so well," she remarked ruefully.

"Yeah, I spoke to Colonel Carter earlier," he said quietly. "Are you going to be able to deal with your new _role _okay?"

"Guess I don't have much choice," she sighed heavily. "I need to fix this on my own and move on."

"And what about Sheppard?"

"Ha," Kirstin laughed as Jonathan grabbed her finger and squeezed it tight. "Well, when I screw things up I do it in a big way," she chuckled. "He'd be pretty stupid to take some loser like me back into his bed."

"You're not a loser," Trip said walking over to the bed. "You're just lost. Do you want me to go beat him up?" he asked sitting down on the mattress against the wall.

"I think I need to fix this on my own," Kirstin said looking up at him. "But I'll keep it in mind."

"Okay, I leave the boxin' gloves hanging in the garage," Trip laughed. "You'll always have a room at the house you know," he added quietly.

"I know," she whispered feeling the tears well up in her eyes. The door chimed again and she jumped up to answer it so he wouldn't see her cry. The door slid open with T'Pol waiting quietly in the hall. "T'Pol."

The Vulcan woman walked into the room. "I've come to say goodbye," she said putting her hand on Kirstin's shoulder. "It's time for us to go."

"So much for the warm mushies," Kirstin said shrugging her shoulders.

"I don't see the point," T'Pol replied. "We will talk weekly on email and you'll come to visit in a few weeks…"

"It's a figure of speech," Kirstin muttered walking over to the bed to pick up the baby. "Are you two going to fight all the way back to Earth?" she asked looking from T'Pol to Trip.

"No." They both replied at once.

"We are not fighting," T'Pol explained further.

"And I'm over it," Trip said walking around the bed to Kirstin's side. "Take care of yourself, sis," he said pulling her into a hug. "Go fix that thing with your man." Trip turned his head and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I'll work on it," Kirstin replied, pulling out of his embrace and kissing Jonathan one final time. She handed the baby back to Trip.

"Are you sure you don't want to walk with us to the gate?" Trip asked walking over to the door.

"No, it's better this way," Kirstin said biting her lip. "I've had enough public exposure today. I'll see you in a couple of weeks," she added as the three of them walked out of the door.

After they left, she stood in silence and stared at the closed door for ten minutes. The longer she remained in position the worse she felt, the knot in her stomach kept squeezing and gnawing at her. It wasn't because two members of her new family and her lifeline just walked out the door. _I need to fix this with him or at least give it a valiant attempt, _she vowed walking up to the door. "Be strong," she told herself aloud before walking into the hallway.

* * *

The knot didn't go away, even when she was standing outside of Sheppard's door. Kirstin hesitated in front of the chime and finally waved her hand over it so quickly she wasn't even sure if it registered. When John didn't immediately open the door, she nearly sprinted down the hallway, but something made her stay there and wait. The door slid open about a second later and she sucked in some air before saying anything. He was dressed in a form fitting t shirt and black running pants that were loose and rode low on his hips. He looked damn good and it made forming any intelligent sentences that much more difficult.

"Hi," she finally managed to spit out. "Can I come in?" she asked looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Sure," John replied stepping to the side and letting her pass.

Kirstin walked around his bed and ran her finger across the wall. "I've had a really bad day," she said quietly still refusing to look at him.

"I'll say," he replied walking over to the side of the bed. He crossed his arms at his chest. "I spoke to Colonel Carter."

Kirstin exhaled slowly and leaned against the wall. "Yeah, that seems to be a theme today," she muttered shoving her hands in the pockets of her BDU's.

"Are you going to be okay in your new role? _Captain_ Mackenzie?" he asked teetering forward on his toes.

"Yeah, it's for the best," she said nodding her head. She bit her lip and finally looked over at him. "I'll earn my oak leaves back. I was a damn good captain," she said flatly.

"I'm sure that's why you were promoted to Major in the first place," Sheppard replied. "That's what your record says anyway. There's no mention of the _sleeping your way to the top _rumor in your file."

"Oh, well, that's good to know," she muttered looking away from him out of embarrassment. It was just a rumor anyway. She hadn't slept with the commander of her unit on Republic, although it wasn't for his lack of trying. "That's not what I'm trying to do here, you know," she said tentatively biting her lip again.

"I've never thought that," John replied dropping his arms to his sides.

"And I didn't go up there to jump," she added quickly suddenly feeling her heart beating in her throat.

"I didn't think you did Kirstin," he said resting his hands on his hips.

"You didn't? Then wha…and safety line… and the jump?" she rambled.

"Protocol," he replied flatly. "The email about your resignation and the strange conversations with Jones and McKay flipped some alerts. Carter ordered the comm line open," he said.

Kirstin looked in to his eyes and held his gaze for a moment. The thunderous drone of her heart in her ear slowly settled to a dull roar allowing her to hear the sounds of the room for the first time since she entered. "Don Henley?" she said as she zeroed in on the voice from the music. It was far from his usual fair.

"Yeah," Sheppard said running his hand over the back of his neck. "It was that kind of night."

"Not what I would expect," she said as she started to pace behind the bed. "No Folsum Prison Blues or Ring of Fire?" she asked looking back at him with an arched brow.

"That was last hour."

"Ah," she said trailing her finger across the top of his dresser. She felt like she was wheezing even though she was sure she was imagining it. Kirstin was sure she was trembling and was convinced she was going to hurl at any second. "Look, I left something up on that ledge, something that honestly I don't want to have back. I'm going to have a lot more tough times in the coming months and it'd be nice to know I had some backing," she stammered nervously. The words came out all wrong and she hoped he just picked up on what she was trying to say without her having to say it.

"I think a lot of people have your back Kirstin," John said slowly. "Jones, Jeeter, Lorne ..."

He didn't get it and Kirstin had to do something fast before she lost her nerve. "No I mean," she interrupted catching him off guard. She looked in his direction, over his shoulder, and laid it out for him. "You're the best thing I have going for me right now. The only thing that is right at least … sort of. I know I said some pretty shitty things up there and I disrespected you in front of the men and …." Kirstin took a deep breath and looked down at her trembling hands. "I have no right to even ask you this, because I'm not sure I would … but if you'll take me back ... I'll figure this out and lock that coward in the closet."

Kirstin looked across the room as silence fell between them. Don Henley's Taking Me Home started to play in the background as Kirstin waited anxiously for John to say something, anything to break to tension between them. She looked him square in the eye and tried to read his face, cursing him silently for his stoic features and his ability to mask his feelings from the outside.

"I ah…. I can't take you back Kirstin," he finally muttered looking her directly in the eye.

Kirstin's heart sunk in her chest and she bit her lip nervously. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes and she forced the lump in her throat down with one hard swallow. "Okay," she whispered. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with a thousand cotton balls. "I um…ah I respect that," she coughed out after a second. "I barely want to take myself back," she added. Kirstin looked around the room and felt the walls closing in on her. _I need to get out of here, _she thought as her feet remained still. "I guess I'll… um see you around then," she blurted out and finally willed her feet to move.

She never made it to the door. John didn't allow it. He snagged her arm and stopped her mid flight. "I can't take you back Joes," he whispered pulling her chin up to look him in the eye. "I never let you go," he added brushing his lips across hers.

Kirstin stared at him in disbelief and let herself melt into his embrace. "Wait," she muttered putting her hands flat on his chest and pushing back slightly. "You never let me go?" she questioned looking him in the eye. "Then why did you let me go on like a babbling …"

"You needed to apologize," John argued smiling at her. "And you looked so cute." He added nipping at her lips again.

"You …. You bastard," she whispered with a smile as she kissed him back. "I'm going to get better I promise," she said when they finally came up for air.

"Sure you will," he said with a sly grin. "I have an antidote for that," he said leading her over to the bed. He sat down on the mattress and pulled her between his legs, looking up at her with glassed over eyes.

_Make love to me, _she signed. She ran her hands through his hair as Don sang quietly in the background.

_And this love is like nothing I have ever known. Take my hand, love, __I'm taking you home. Taking you home._

The End.


End file.
